The Only Aussie Around
by JabberwockySlayer
Summary: Quidditch, ADD, Australia, Werewolves, and plots! Who could want more? A cursed Beater with family issues up the Wazoo ventures, somewhat unwillingly, to the UK and, accidently, wreaks havoc there too. Rated T for sporadic bouts of Language. RLOC COMPLETE
1. THe Farcial Beginning

_-Hello one and all to everyone, those of you who're returning to read this, or those of you who have just found this. I only ask you not to be intimidated by the length of the chapters you will find in this story. It is my firm belief that chapters should be longer than shorter. My apologies to other ADD people out there. And thank you to all who review._

_All characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, other than the ones that aren't. Riiight. You know which ones are, and you'll figure out which ones aren't. This will only be said once, since the link always opens up to this page. _

_J.S. _

** PROLOGUE: The Farcical Beginning**

(see footnotes at end of chapters)

"Welcome one and all to this Quidditch match; New Zealand versus Australia. My name is Theo Elder, and I will be your game keeper for tonight!" He paused for a second, but there was no applause to be heard. Liam laughed and glanced at his father but, like usual, no emotions graced the perfectly white face. In the shade of their box seats, his father looked like a ghost. Liam considered telling him, but thought better of it. "Any way," continued the commentator, "the match! New Zealand versus Australia!" This time Theo had to call a halt to his commentary to let tremendous roars from the crowd subside. "We all know that this match is one of the most highly anticipated in the entire Southern Hemisphere League season, at least in this area, and it will definitely live up to it. All the way from New Zealand, lets give the Wellington Kiwis a welcome!" Elder called out the names as they sped by, "The Chasers: Geoffrey Gnasst, Beldy Boric, and Peter Gove! The Beaters: Hans Alvin and Andrew Kellet! Keeper Katie Tayene, and Seeker Hugo Narthing! Welcome!" The New Zealand side of the arena erupted with applause and wild yells. Liam clapped politely and waited for Theo to continue. "And now give a welcome to your Australian team!" Liam looked through his omniuclars and saw the seven Firebolts streak by. "I give you: Robert Maxx, Christopher Yalemon, and Zachary Blitz as your Chasers. Erin Langhart and Alan Knars as your Beaters. Ode Harrow as your one and _only_ Keeper," a uproar from both the English and the New Zealand sides, "and Seeker Gene Davids! If the referees are ready, let the game begin!" There was a short blast of a whistle, and the game did commence.

Liam watched as the player called Davids fly strait up to circle overhead, Hugo Narthing tailed closely behind.

"What do you think, Liam?" someone behind him asked. Liam turned around to see his friend, Erick Aldin vault the row of seats directly behind Liam and sit down. Two of his friends followed. "Game's going to be good, huh? But the Kiwis stand Buckley's chance of beating us." Liam nodded and turned back to the game. Not much had happened. Ode Harrow flew almost lazily, like he had the intention to catch the Quaffle himself and score, back to the goals he was supposed to defend while the Australian Chasers, who had lost the Quaffle, took up the pursuit of the New Zealand Chasers. This had a particularly heart-stopping effect when the Australian Chasers passed Ode Harrow, who didn't seem so keen on the whole situation.

"Strewth (1)," Erick squealed when Ode barely made it to the posts to make the save, "he's a rip snorter (2) of a Keeper today isn't he?"

Liam, who was sitting on the edge of his seat as well, nodded. "Yeah," he gasped, when Ode had safely sent the Quaffle on its way down to the other end of the field, "but he's never as relaxed as this. He must really be enjoying it."

"You're sister's not finding herself much action today," Erick noted. "Normally she has a blue with what, three people each match, and knocks them off their brooms?"

Liam smiled. "Yeah, something like that. She'll come 'round sometime." He watched as his sister, Erin, dive to intercept a Bludger aimed at Davids. "She told me that they expect the New Zealand team's strategy is to keep Davids to preoccupied with saving her own skin to look for the Snitch. That's why Erin's keeping such a close tab on Davids."

"Right," Erick said. "Isn't their strategy normally that?"

Liam laughed and nodded. "Are you and Davids still together?" Liam asked.

"Yeah," Erick answered, intent on the game. "If they so much as scratch her, I'll kill 'em." Liam chuckled at the absent-minded comment. Erick's eyes widened as the New Zealand keeper made a good save, but not as nerve wrenching as Ode's was. The New Zealand Beaters aimed two Bludgers at each ends of an Australian Chaser's broom as he tore across the field, but had to duck them as Alan Knars and Erin intercepted them.

Elder's voice kept an ongoing commentary. "Those were two very well aimed Bludgers; amazing that Maxx was able to maneuver around them. Maxx going for another goal, dodges another Bludger by Kellet, shoots...and Tayene saves!" There was a roar from the Kiwis. "Tayene passes the Quaffle to Gnasst, Gnasst is up the field followed closely by Gove. Bludger to Gnasst from Langhart, Gnasst spins and passes the Quaffle to Gove. Gove back up the field, dodges Chaser Blitz, shoots and... and Harrow saves the Quaffle!" There was a slight pause in the commentary as Ode gathered his Chasers and whispered orders to them. Theo continued. "All I can say is that this had better not be a very dirty game, seeing as how both the Australian and New Zealand reserve teams are now playing each other at the Wellington stadium. All we can do is pray, and play civilly," he added, as Alan Knars rocketed a Bludger towards Tayene.

Liam tried to pay attention to his sister, but his eyes kept drifting towards either Harrow or Narthing. Whenever Harrow made a save, the Australians would cheer and when he made a particularly difficult save, the Kiwis would join in. One of the saves, Harrow dove from his broom and scooped the Quaffle up right before it had the chance to go through a hoop. His broom dove below him and he landed perfectly.

"I read somewhere that Ode gets that trick from a Quidditch keeper about a hundred years ago. Name of Devin Bates, I think, but no one knows that now. As far as they're concerned, that's one of Ode's specialties. It works _almost_ every time. Hah! Remember that one time when we he was playing verse Swaziland?" Liam nodded, smirking at the memory, and the game progressed. The Quaffle went in turn to the New Zealand keeper, who missed by a fraction of an inch, and the score was 10 to 0.

"Ace (3)!" Erick yelled happily, pumping the air with his fist. "Heck, I'm certainly glad I chucked a sickie (4) to see this. Bloody awesome!" Liam's father narrowed his eyes at Erick's outburst, but remained silent.

The Quaffle was played across the field so many times Liam lost count. He only vaguely kept track of Elder's commentary. For a while he watched Harrow, but soon became bored as he saw that Harrow was now completely swept up into the game to perform any more tricks. The Seekers were far more interesting to watch. Almost as soon as he turned the omniuclars to Narthing, Narthing went into a very steep dive. "Don't follow the bloke, Gene, don't follow," Liam heard Erick whispering behind him. Thankfully Davids didn't follow, and Liam saw why. There wasn't any Snitch in the direction that Narthing was heading; Narthing had pulled a Wronski Feint. Davids took a quick look around the pitch, scanned the whole area in a few seconds, and took off in the opposite direction that Narthing had dove. "Hah!" Erick exclaimed in satisfaction. "Serves the donger (5)..."

"Erick," Liam warned and jerked his head to where his father sat next to him. Erick smiled but fell silent.

Narthing pulled out of his dive just in time to see Davids take off across the field. With a quick turn, Narthing was in fast pursuit. Soon he was at Davids tail, and pulling steadily up the side. Then he swerved and dove. Suddenly, a Bludger from the New Zealand Beaters collided with Davids' gut, sending her spinning from her broom. Another Bludger promptly broke her Firebolt in half. There was an uproar from the Australian crowd.

"That was a nasty trick played by the New Zealand Beaters! When the Seeker is within catching distance of the Snitch _only _the other Seeker can attack him," Elder lectured. "Deserves a foul, and yes there are the referees, going to talk to them. A very nasty trick indeed! Stupid, really, that's one of the things you learn the first day at camp. It's not a new rule, either! Merlin, what were the Kiwis thinking? I can't believe that actually happened in an international game! We're supposed to have _quality_ Quidditch, not this bodgy stuff that they just did! What the _hell_ were they thinking?" Liam was quite shocked to see all the heads on the New Zealand side of the arena turn to where Elder stood. Cat calls and magically magnified raspberries erupted in an instant, drowning out the commentary. Someone must have said something up in the box because Elder's voice grew suddenly quieter. However, the loss of Elder's ridicule only drove the Australian spectators to scream louder. The chanting that undertoned Elder's commentary now grew to a steady roar.

Indeed, Erick was quite engrossed in it all. "Unfair!" Erick was yelling from behind Liam. "The bloody refs didn't see that coming? As useful as an ashtray on a motorbike, they are!" Liam looked around and saw that most of the other Australian supporters were thinking the same as Erick. They were all, mostly, standing and making rather obtrusive gestures to the Kiwi spectators on the other side of the field, who were, in turn, sending their own pleasant messages along as well. Liam looked sheepishly at his father, and saw that a stern look had replaced the normally emotion absent face. It wasn't until Elder's voice gasped until the ranting subsided enough to hear a communal 'ooh' from the crowd and Liam focused back on Davids, expecting to see her on the ground and lying in an odd position. She wasn't.

Narthing had her by the back of her jersey and was slowly drifting down to the ground. Medical wizards were rushing onto the field as Narthing lay Davids down and took off again. Liam looked back at Erick, whose fist was halfway down. He had a look of complete surprise on his face that could almost be comparable to relief. If Narthing had been trying to redeem his team, the effect of his deed certainly hit the spot. Almost immediately afterwards the entire stadium had returned to the normal buzz of conversation. The medics wrestled a rather bloody Davids off the field, and she didn't return. The Australians were down a player; it was the most important player that they had. Liam scanned the remaining Australian players with his omnioculars, and saw that Erin Langhart had a look of pure loathing on her face.

"Check out my sister," he whispered, back to Erick.

Quickly Erick moved his omnioculars up to where she was floating and laughed. "Someone's going to have a blue (6) with the other Bludgers," Erick snorted. "Maybe I should postpone my trip to the hospital wing; this game might just be a corker."

Meanwhile, back on the field, the game had resumed. Blitz had missed during the penalty shot, and the Quaffle was now streaking back towards the Australian goal. Harrow came up quickly to block the shot, but the Chaser, Gnasst, dodged and put the Quaffle through the goal. There were mixed emotions from the crowd. Erick and Liam moaned, but the other side of the stadium exploded with cries of support to their team. Harrow righted himself after flipping over, and looked around. The Quaffle had returned to Blitz, who passed it to Maxx. Maxx dodged Gove, passed back to Blitz, who looped the keeper and put the Quaffle through the hoop. The score was 60 to 20.

Gnasst took the Quaffle back up the field, but was hit halfway by a Bludger from Erin. She was given a penalty, which Harrow blocked effortlessly. Harrow threw the Quaffle to Maxx, who sped back up the pitch. Liam held his breath as he saw Narthing dive. This time, the New Zealand Seeker had really spotted the Snitch. It was hovering at the base of the Australian middle goal. "Holy dooley," Erick whispered in surprise. Two Bludgers collided into Narthing one after the other. The New Zealand Seeker slid off his broom, unconscious and crashed into the sand beneath him. Liam focused his omnioculars on the Seeker and cringed. More medi wizards were rushing onto the field to hustle Narthing off the pitch.

"What is going on?" Elder yelled. "What did I just say? You cannot attack a Seeker when he is in within catching distance of the Snitch! What is this? And Hugo Narthing doesn't look like he's in fit playing condition any more, either! There are the refs, going to talk to Erin Langhart."

Liam's heart sank. "You're sister's blood's worth bottling (7)," Erick congratulated. "Forget the game, she's a corker (8) of a kid."

"I guess she is," Liam whispered. "But it doesn't look good for her."

"Yup, so you say, Liam," Erick agreed. "That ref there is giving her a red tag. She'll not be seeing another game for a few months." Erick paused for a second, brow contracting. "What a _stupid_ Banana Bender (9)," he said. "I suppose he's too stupid to realize that this is the grand finale to the whole season. Oh, wait." Erick stopped talking abruptly. "That's not good." The ref had handed her an ordinary slip of paper instead of the traditional laminated red one. "Did he just give her Quidditch contract back? Oh, man. I'm sorry mate." Erick gave Liam a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, that'd be right. She's going to spit the dummy (10), I 'spose."

Back on the pitch, Erin looked as though she was cursing quite colorfully at the ref. She clutched her contract in her hand and was jabbing her finger in his chest. The ref whipped out his wand and Erin backed off, giving the wand a nasty look. With a few more thoughts ornamented and flourished with socially unacceptable language, Erin flew off the pitch. Boos at the ref from the Australian spectators were even louder than when Davids had been knocked off her broom. The ref gave a short blast on his whistle and the game embarked again.

Gnasst took the penalty shot and missed, predictably. As soon as the captured Quaffle left Harrow's hand, he became very alert. As the other players sped away from him, across the pitch, Harrow froze. Liam could only see his eyes moving, searching the ground and then the stadium. Suddenly, they too froze. There was a pause, and then he dove with superb grace. Liam smiled, sure that he had not seen a dive so flawless, or vertical, before. Ode had finally decided to amuse the crowd.

The stadium was completely quiet; everyone was trying to see what Harrow had. Elder's commentary had stopped, again. Maxx, who had just been knocked off his broom by Alvin and was hanging on by just one hand, turned to look at Harrow. The referees' whistles were halfway to their mouths, and even the Chaser that had the Quaffle, turned to watch. Turning sharply to the right, Harrow pulled out of the dive. His hand was clasped around a struggling, golden ball. Everyone on the New Zealand team looked very confused.

Elder's voice broke the silence. His voice seemed weak. "There you have it," he wheezed. "Ode Harrow has caught the Snitch. Australia wins, 210 to 20." The Australian supporters exploded.

"Well, Liam," Erick said, standing up, "I guess I'll see you later then. I suppose I'm overdue to check on Gene. Ah, well, she'll live. Normally does, you know." He grinned and turned to leave with his two friends. "Tell your sister that I'm sorry. She should move up to the North and then she can play again; shouldn't just let her talent go to waste, should she?"

Liam shook his head and waved as Erick left the box. "Father," Liam said, "I suppose we should go find Erin."

* * *

"I can't believe that they gave it back to me," Erin sobbed, flinging the crumpled Quidditch contract onto an end table when she stormed through the front door to their flat. Liam sighed, picking the bent contract up, and took her coat. "Now what am I going to do with my life? No, wait, I remember, Quidditch _was_ my life."

"Quite being sarcastic, Erin, and sit down," Liam demanded.

Erin sank into a chair and sniffed. "I did the exact same thing as Kellet and Alvin," she complained. "So why did I get my contract pulled?"

"Well, they didn't break Gene's back and compound fracture her femur, now did they?"

Erin stared up into Liam's complacent face. "He deserved it," she whispered and buried her face in her hands. "I'd do it again."

"You don't have to tell me, little sister," Liam explained and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I know you would."

"Tell me I'll never loose you," she pleaded. Liam smiled as though he thought she was half-hysterical, which she was. "Please, just promise me." Liam heaved a tremendous sigh, holding out her contract. Erin growled and tore it from his grasp.

"I promise," he said and knelt before her, taking both her hands in his. "I promise that nothing will ever happen to take me away." He bowed his head for a moment. "Still," he continued, gazing up at his sister. "There will be nothing that can tear you away from me." Erin glanced up with a wicked smile then hid her face. "Anyway, look on the bright side of things. You can now go about your experiments with absolutely _nothing_ to sidetrack you."

Erin's eyes lit up as she lifted her head. "Yeah, that sounds alright," she agreed halfheartedly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "I 'spose I didn't dux (11) N.E.W.T.S in potions and charms for nothing."

Liam smiled kindly and patted her on the knee, rising. "So, what are you going to do?" he asked, staring out a window across the Bay. Erin grunted a response. "Could have guessed," Liam snickered, pulling at his chin. "You should spend some time thinking about it of course, but I know that they're looking for potion masters down in Melbourne." He turned back around to Erin, laughing at her confused look. "You know," he elaborated with a shrug. "They've got a shortage at the Department of Interrogations."

Erin rolled her eyes. "I'm not anything like a potion master," she replied, sulking, and lowered her eyes.

Liam gave her foot a little kick with his toe, drawing her attention back to him. "Right, Erin," he said sarcastically. "I don't know anyone at secondary school who was conchier (12) than you. I don't think anyone had duxed their N.E.W.T.S before you." He grinned. "Heck, even the _potions_ professor Grey couldn't compete with you."

Erin sighed. "Well, I dunno," she sniffed, systematically shredding her Quidditch contract. "I guess I did leave a few loose ends about when I left to play Quidditch," she agreed. "There was that one about..."

Liam cut her off. "Now, listen," he chuckled, heading towards the door. "I'm sure I would be bored to tears if I stayed to hear you name all the experiments you didn't do when you were at school." He shook his head fondly. "Little sister, there was a _reason_ you weren't allowed to do them."

"Yeah," Erin agreed darkly. "Only because Grey wouldn't let me use white gas to heat my cauldron and I couldn't get it hot enough with just wood fire. She was such a blery coward." Liam snorted and strode across the expansive room to an old bookshelf. He slid a heavy book from the collection. "What's that?" Erin wondered.

"English Imperialism in the Eighteenth Century," Liam answered, flopping into an armchair on the other side of the room. "We're trying to figure out how to get the Parliament to let Aborigines..."

"And that's where I stop you," Erin smiled, only half-aware that she was no longer thinking about the Quidditch game. "Do you realize that you're the only wizard in that Muggle government?" Liam glanced over at her from his book and nodded. "Well, nice of you to get out of the wizarding rut."

"Father's not all that pleased I decided to go into government," Liam reminded her, returning to his book. "_Muggle_ government, that is," he corrected before Erin could. She leaned over the arm of her chair and peered through the filmy curtains covering the large window. The brilliant summer sun drenched Sydney in dazzling reflections off the bay.

"I might as well get back into potions," Erin sighed, speaking to herself. Liam lowered his book and watched as she pondered. "I probably will need something to do soon." She shivered. "Urgh, boredom, one of the few things I despise." She glared at the Quidditch contract confetti in her hand and threw it to the floor. "It'd give me something to do." Erin pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the paper remnants drifting to the floor.

"Erin!" Liam cried, cowering in his chair at the sight of her wand. "What are you doing?" And explosion rocked their flat and Liam dove to the floor. When the dust had cleared, Liam spotted Erin sitting complacently in her chair as though nothing had happened. "What was that for?" Erin looked over her shoulder and smirked wickedly. Grumbling, Liam rose from the ground, picked up his book, and seated himself back in his chair.

"Geez," Erin complained. "Don't see why it's such a big deal when I use my wand."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Well, it could be because you nearly destroy everything when you use it," he gasped, turning to the page he had been reading before he was rudely interrupted. "Besides, I can still remember when you accidentally set my broomstick on fire," Liam muttered distractedly. "Anyway, I'll tell the people at the Department to give you an application."

Erin turned back to face him. "You really think they'll want someone like me who's not touched a cauldron for almost six years?" she asked.

Liam shrugged and buried his nose in his book. "Wouldn't hurt to find out," he said. "I've heard they look at N.E.W.T scores." Erin grinned and returned to staring out across the Bay.

FOOTNOTES:

Strewth: mild oath. Similar to Hotspur's _s'blood_ in Henry IV part one

Rip snorter: fantastic

Ace: excellent!

Chuck a sickie: take a day off from work for fun

Donger: not exactly a nice thing to call someone

Have a blue: a fight

Blood's worth bottling: a good person

A corker: something excellent

Banana Bender: someone from Queensland

Spit the dummy: become upset

Dux: top of the class. Very like Hermione Granger

Conchy: conscientious


	2. A Long Way From Home

**CHAPTER ONE: A Long Way From Home**

_Two years later:_

"G'Day, mate! Sun's a bit hot today, isn't it?" A short Muggle in a crunched tan hat, brown shorts, a fly fishing vest, beaten up leather hiking boots, and socks infested with some particularly vile looking seeds, stepped out from under an umbrella like eucalyptus tree. "Nasty, record breaking heat we've been having around these parts. Hell, not even the sheep will move to their greens. Had to move 'em to the long pastures (1). Ah, well." He looked up at the slightly taller person he had just greeted. A heavy looking, long, black cloak concealed the face. The Muggle peered up in earnest, trying to see whom he was talking to. Unable to, but seemingly unperturbed, he continued. "Now, what'd you be doing in the Bay Area for? Looking for something or the other, right?"

"Actually," the person inside the cloak remarked dryly, "I live here."

"Oh."

"It seems to me," the cloaked figure continued, "that you're the one that seems a tad lost." A hand fumbled for something inside of the cloak.

Somewhat apprehensively, the Muggle watched. "No. No, I live here too," the Muggle assured the hidden person. "As a matter of fact, I run a mean boat business down near the jetty (2)." He motioned out behind him, towards the south, and turned to walk under the eucalyptus tree. "Do you like boating?" The cloaked person was gone. With slight confusion, the Muggle rotated in a circle, looking for the missing person. "Strange," he said to himself when he found that there was no one in sight. "A bizarre bloke (3), nonetheless. He must have been near madness to be wearing that old cloak on a day of this heat. Ah, well. Best to get inside before the heat gets any worse." The Muggle tarried a little longer under the shade of the trees before tipping his hat the direction of the sun and stepping out into the blazing light.

* * *

"It's impossible I tell you! I can't get a bloody six clicks (4) from this bloody house! Just now I landed beyond the Black Stump and this galah (5) Muggle starts talking crazy stuff about junk I could care less about and then I have to _listen_ to the bloke before I get my bearings and come back here! Do you know how invigorating it is to listen to a Muggle rant about the heat when he blery doesn't know Christmas from Bourke Street (6)? Well, I'll tell you. It's just about as bad as not being able to disapparate because of some fluke thing that happens with the bloody stars that makes my wand screw up and," the woman took a huge breath paused for a brief moment before she continued, "that makes no bloody sense at all!"

"That would be most annoying," a man, lounging in a high-backed chair in front of a roaring fireplace, drawled. He had a bemused hint in his voice.

"Damn right it's annoying! Can you believe it! I'm going to have to wait a bloody month now until the stars straighten themselves out again before I can get anywhere! It makes no sense and it's as bloody inconvenient as I'll get out."

"Must be almost as annoying as listening to a sister who can't even explain a problem without sounding like a cut snake (7) and pretending like the world is out to get her," the man in the chair said, leaning over the side and grinning at the furious woman. She fumed and dug her wand out of her cloak; the man laughed. "Go ahead, Erin, spit the dummy. I'd like to see you hex me when you can't even disapparate."

"The world _is_ out to get me!" Erin whined, stuffing her wand back in her robes and shooting a very cross look the man's way. "You'd be doing the exact same things if _your_ wand does bloody hell wrong things and can't even be fixed because the _stupid_ wandmakers are afraid they'll 'make the wand cark it (8)! Can you believe it? The people who made the wand won't even take on the responsibility for its bloody problems! What a fantastic mess!"

"Can't you cut your earbashing (9) out?" the man in the chair asked and stood to face the ranting person. "Listen, Erin, it's not my fault the stars effect Mum's wand, so leave it in peace will you? It probably only happens because the wand doesn't like you and you've been too busy to go out and get a new one for something like fourteen years. I really don't want to listen to you tell me every other minute about how you hate this that and the other. Leave it at rest, won't you?" He ran a hand through his close cropped, sandy hair as he watched her response.

"Come on, Liam, you know I don't mean it!" Erin laughed and puffed a piece of sun bleached hair away from her face. She smiled a few seconds longer and then rolled her eyes and began to mutter to herself. "Strewth, I don't know why it's got to be _my_ stupid wand that's got the spiritual or emotional or what else wrong with it! Why it can't be some bloody South African's or some Seppo's (10), I don't know. It's like the half the damn world is out to get me and the other half is trying to sabotage the other half but instead of sabotaging them, they end up screwing with my brain and the likes of that. Why can't they all lay off and go screw with someone else's mind?" Erin shook her head in disgust and slumped into a rotating chair near a large bay window. She peered out the lace curtains and across the great Sydney Bay. Boats with sails turned slightly yellow from the constant sea air blowing through them scudded to and fro about the bay, as if it were all one big parade. "What I wouldn't give for a normal life," Erin muttered and then jumped as Liam lay a hand on her shoulder. "What?" she asked, disgruntled.

Liam snorted and swiveled Erin around to face him. "I wasn't going to tell you," he began with a sheepish grin, "but I guess you'd like something to get your mind off your wand." Erin looked as though she were about to embark on yet another tirade. "Knock off, will you? You're a bleeding frog in a sock (11)," he said when she slouched back into her chair. "Oh, and lay off the South Africans, got it? We've got some family down there; wouldn't want to hurt any feelings, you know," he whispered when Erin slumped in her chair again. "You got a letter from...some place in England, I'm not exactly sure where. Anyway, Father's got it downstairs, but I really don't think it'd be a best time to bug him right now; seeing how he's in a tight spot with the government. Might not appreciate you storming down there right now..."

"Go on," Erin whispered with anxiety and stood up. "What's it say?"

Liam smiled. "Your application has been accepted," Liam said, smiling with a sneer drawn perfectly up to his nose. "The healers at that Muddo's in London were very interested in you clinical trials with wolfsbane and the other...werewolf charms."

"They're potions," Erin corrected. "And it's St. Mungo's, not Muddo's."

"Potions, charms, curses...what difference is there anyway? You know me, they're all not really my cup of tea." Erin looked uncomfortable and turned back to the window. "Anyway," Liam continued quickly, "they want you to go up there and spend some time as the new healer in residence. Sounds fun, doesn't it? You'll get out of this heat, at least." As if to make a point, he wiped his perspiring brow on his sleeve.

Erin turned around slowly and gazed up a Liam in disbelief. "They want _me_," she pointed a finger at herself, "to go up to London? I'm a retired Quidditch Beater for Merlin's sake! They want _me_ to be the healer in residence?" Liam nodded, growing more bored by the second. "You can't be serious," Erin whispered. "That's impossible!"

"Believe me," Liam growled, striding over to the chair by the fireplace, "it most definitely is possible, and probable. They want you to arrive in two days; apparently they have an emergency case on the line and they need your talent straight away. Believe it, little sister, you've got the brains to get just about any medical job in either the magical or Muggle world." With a reasonably jovial smile, he sat in the chair and pulled a thick book off the lamp table next to him.

Erin crossed to his chair and stood behind it. "Is Father alright about it?" Liam nodded into his book. "Are you positive?" she chided. "The last time you told me that Father was okay with me doing something I got the _pleasure_ of skipping three meals because, it seems, that Father was utterly _not_ alright with me collecting wolfsbane a midnight."

"It was your bloody idea," Liam snorted and shifted in his chair so he could glance up at Erin. "He had his reasons about not wanting you to go." Erin gritted her teeth and shot him a dark look. "He was fine with the idea, Erin. Perfectly fine. He was the one who initially read the letter; was a bit surprised in the beginning that you got the job...Anyway, he seems glad to be rid of you."

"He'd be glad, alright," Erin grimaced and rolled her eyes. "So, they want me in two days?" Liam nodded, obviously not listening to a word she was saying. His nose was inches away from the book's binding. Every time he flipped a page it brushed up against the tip of his nose. "Great," Erin smiled, looking up and scanning the room. The noise of a crinkled page against her brother's nose made her jump. She looked sharply down at his curled up form and sighed. "What are you reading?" she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"The History of the Australian Law by Johannes Tinker."

"Sounds about as entertaining as trying to dance with a Queensland grindylow."

* * *

"I can't believe I have to take the Muggle plane," Erin exclaimed, exasperated, under her breath and clutched her ticket tightly. Her father looked on in stony silence. "It's like taking a booze bus (12)."

Liam wore his customary sheepish grin hugged her tightly as a Muggle came over the intercom and announced that boarding onto Erin's flight was beginning. "Let's hope they're all not off their faces (13). Go take out some werewolves, will you?" Liam laughed and thumped her on the back. "Try not to have too much fun, though."

Erin nodded, turned briefly to her dad, saw he had made no move to wish her on her ways, turned to the ticket taker, and handed the crisp piece of tag board to the plump Muggle. With a wave back at Liam and the grim statue that appeared to be her father, she was on her way to England.

* * *

"Are you...Erin Langhart?" a tall man in a spotless black suit asked. He looked skeptical, but friendly, nonetheless. Erin nodded and the man smiled, offering to take her bags. "My name is Mark DeEvlin; I'm from St. Mungo's. They told me you would be arriving by a Muggle plane. It's my first time in an airport," he told her as they pushed past Muggles eager to greet loved ones or get luggage or what not. "Rather an interesting place."

"Yes, sorry about all this," Erin apologized, jerking the bag she was carrying out of the way from colliding with a surly looking Muggle's kneecap. "It's a real bother."

"Not a problem at all," the man laughed. "I rather enjoy coming into the Muggle world; it's not something we do very often, you see. Makes up for a particularly boring day in the office, although we don't get many of those," he admitted with a frown. Laughing at the horrified look on Erin's face, he opened the airport's door and followed her as she stepped through it. "Shall we disapparate from here?"

Erin felt the color rise in her cheeks as she answered him. "Actually, I'm really sorry about this, but that's the reason that I took the Muggle transportation in the first place. My wand has some...problems...with it and for some reason won't allow me to apparate very successfully; actually no predictability at all. More's the pity."

"Don't worry," Mark chuckled, "there's no harm done. We'll just take the Underground and be on our way then. It goes quite near Mungo's, or so I'm told. I don't have a great amount of experience using Muggle transportation." With a wink, he flagged down a taxi and helped her get in. "No need to worry," he whispered to her as the taxi driver gave them suspicious looks from the front seat, "the taxi system in England is superior to many other systems of transportation. Makes it all the easier to get exactly where I need to go."

The taxi driver dropped them off in front of a exceptionally ratty looking building with 'closed to renovation' signs posted all over the windows. Mark paid the driver and led Erin right up to the window of the closed store front. Leaning forward, he spoke directly to a teetering female dummy. "Mark DeEvlin here with," he paused for a second, looking embarrassed as he tried to remember Erin's name. She whispered it to him. "Erin Langhart, to see Head Healer Gregory Avatt." Erin watched apprehensively as the dummy nodded curtly. "Right this way, then," Mark said and made an elegant sweeping motion towards the solid glass window. Now giving him the apprehensive look, Erin stepped into the glass, half expecting to stub her toe. Quite gratefully, she didn't, and found herself in a massive lobby. Mark steadied her as he appeared next to her. "His office is just down the hall to your left. First door on the right. Give me your bags, and I'll put them where you can get to them when you need them." He smiled curtly when she gave him her bag and left with a nod.

Feeling much smaller than her five feet nine inches, Erin wound her way around wizards fighting to speak properly, one who couldn't even make an explicit sound without gurgling, towards the hall that Mark had pointed out to her. She escaped a conversation with a bothered looking gargoyle hopping on its tail and managed to slip into the shadowy hall before anyone else noticed her. Taking a deep breath, she continued silently down the hall and stopped at the door with a plaque that read _'Head Healer Gregory F. Avatt—expert in counter curse charms, illegal potions remedies, and experimental Muggle treatment.'_ Gritting her teeth, Erin knocked on the heavy looking door. The sound echoed dully around the hall.

There was a pause, a scraping of a chair as someone rose, padding across the floor to the door, and then a creak as the handle turned to reveal a middle sized older man wearing thick glasses. "Yes?" the man asked quizzically. "May I help you?"

"Um...yeah," Erin responded, clearing her throat. "I'm Erin Langhart from Australia here about the new residency."

The older man's eyes lit up immediately and he stepped away from the door, opening it wide. "Excellent. I've been expecting you." Erin stepped through the door into a richly decorated room covered with pictures of wizards wearing clothes she could have sworn had not been seen in over four hundred years.

The room was furnished with a complete set of dark, mahogany furniture and comfortable looking, overstuffed chairs. "Please, sit down." The Head Healer motioned to a chair sitting opposite his desk. He took his own seat in an elegant spinning chair behind the desk. "I was hoping you would arrive soon."

"I was not informed I was that urgently in need of, deadset (14)," Erin apologized. "The plane _was_ delayed in Sydney due to a huge rain storm, which we haven't had in months, but..."

The Head Healer held up a hand for silence. "I was blaming you for nothing," he said simply. "I was, however, merely stating my great sense of relief now that you are here." Erin looked at the rug between her feet. The wizard certainly had a way about making one feel uncomfortable. "You see," he said, reclining in his chair and staring intently at the embarrassed woman in front of him, "we have an emergency that none of us have been able to solve, that deals exactly with the subject that we hired you to fulfil." Erin looked up swiftly. Liam had been right. "He was brought to us four days ago under suspicious circumstances and was near death. Luckily, we've been able to keep him alive by using an interesting form of Muggle medications, intravenous fluids, actually."

Erin wrinkled her noes at the thought of using Muggle remedies to cure an unsuccessful transformation. "Please, sir," she started uncertainly, "might I see him? This sounds quite bad, as you've described it."

Gregory stood up at once and nodded curtly. "I hadn't thought that you would wish to see him today, seeing how you've just arrived from a very trying flight. If you would like, I will call for someone to show you to him." Erin nodded and the stout man flipped a switch behind his desk, then sat back down. There was a brief moment of uneasy silence, then a knock on the door. "Come in," the Head Healer called imperiously. A thin man with graying hair and a thin face opened the door and poked his head through. "Ahh, good. Jensen, will you show Ms. Langhart," he indicated Erin, "to the SOUP ward?" The man looked terrified, but complied. "Excellent.

"Now," he continued, turning to Erin, "I'd like you to begin your work tomorrow at eight o'clock. Precisely then, and no later. I've arranged for DeEvlin to take your bags to a flat that I've had previous residents stay in. I'm sure you'll like it; it's in the center of London. Nice view over the downtown, you know. Does that sound good?" Erin didn't dare say 'no' to this man who seemed to demand respect. She nodded courteously and made her way to the open door. Jensen turned on his heal the moment he'd shut the door and practically ran through the dark passageway in the opposite direction that Erin had originally arrived from.

The passage opened up into a bustling hallway filled with patients coming and going. "This way," the healer motioned and hurried along the brightly-lit hallway towards a huge set of stairs. They climbed up to the third floor and sped down a series of other dark hallways toward a ward with a huge sign above, it notifying passing people that it was the SERIOUS, or OTHERWISE UNPROPITIOUS, PATIENTS. Erin shuddered as she crept in past the steel door, expecting to see half-mutilated patients or worse. Instead, she saw nothing of the sort.

The room that Erin found herself immersed in was smaller than other rooms she had worked in when she was in Sydney, but reasonably comfortable. The one bed in the room had been shoved away from the sole window and lay completely in the shadows. A nightstand stood on its right hand side, piled with undisturbed magazines. A large, wrapped slab of chocolate lay over the neatly stacked magazines, but it too was untouched. The flighty healer led her over to the side of the bed and slipped a clipboard out from a pocket at the foot of the bed. Erin examined the man lying in the bed.

Erin grimaced, as she looked him over. He might have been extremely good looking only a handful of years ago, or maybe even before this atrocity. The recent years, and the hard life in a world prejudice against the werewolf, had worn away some of his looks, but certainly not all. His hair was lightly washed with gray, but most was still a sandy blond color that was only slightly darker than Liam's hair. His face was charming, but thin and worn from his recent ordeal. His skin was strained across his wan, hallowed face. His breath was labored and sporadic. Erin snorted in sympathy, pushing the hair out of her face that insisted on staying wherever she wanted it least. "What happened?" she asked quietly.

"Umm..." Jensen said, quite intelligently, "he had a bout with some..." The healer looked nervous. With a cough, he continued. "With some...a certain _Dark_ wizard. Let's say he didn't come out of it so well. Sadly enough, the full moon waxed the day after he was brought in and he transformed, sapping his body of all the strength it had left. We're unsure as to if he'll live at all." Erin remembered that Gregory had mentioned I.V. fluids kept this specific man alive. She scanned the general area for them and spotted the nasty looking bladder hanging from a thin metal rack. The needle at the end of the clear tube punctured the skin above his elbow joint. Erin gritted her teeth as pessimistic thoughts flooded her mind. "Can you tell how bad off he is, right now?" Jensen asked anxiously. Erin looked up from staring at the sleeping wizard and up into the eyes of the healer with a pained expression. Frowning, she knelt by the reclined wizard's side and checked his thin arm for a pulse. It was slow, but otherwise normal. His temperature was possibly a tad low. All symptoms that she'd seen in other werewolves that were too weak to undergo the transformation.

Erin shrugged as she stood up again. "I'll need to speak with him before I can make any hard hypothesizes regarding his health," she said. "Poor bloke. Right now I can't see anything drastically not normal about him." The healer nodded and slipped the clipboard back into the pouch at the foot of the bed then watched as Erin checked the sleeping man's pulse again. "What did you say his name is?"

"I didn't," the healer sighed. "His name is Remus Lupin, and I'd be careful if you plan on interrogating him when he wakes up." The healer paused. "Or at least very subtle with your questions. He really isn't fond of answering anything he doesn't want to." Erin sighed with relief. _Thank Merlin_, she thought,_ at last...someone like me._

FOOTNOTES:

Long pastures: land by the side of the road used as grazing fields when there's no water

Jetty: a dock of some sort

Bloke: man. Synonymous with bastard, if in a friendly context. Just a warning; don't be offended.

Clicks: kilometers

Galah: insane, crazy, not the brightest bulb in the box...etc.

Doesn't know Christmas from Bourke Street: absolutely bonkers. Bourke street is a brightly lit strip in Melbourne.

Mad as a cut snake: mad

Cark it: kick the bucket. Die.

Earbashing: complaining, whining

Seppo's: American's

Mad as a frog in a sock: as you can imagine, not happy

Booze bus: a bus used to transport drunk drivers

Off their faces: really quite drunk

Deadset: honest, really


	3. I, Gentleman Werewolf

**CHAPTER TWO: I, Gentleman Werewolf**

Erin rolled out of bed, dreaming of the clear Australian skies she left. _Not that I mind the rain_, she thought giddily. Still half asleep, she maneuvered through her luxurious flat and to the bathroom, where she successfully turned the shower on and stepped in. _It's a nice thing that Liam persuaded me to cut my hair_, she considered, fifteen minutes later as she stood in the tub, drying herself off. _Not as much to comb, or to deal with, for that matter_. She pulled on her clothes before picking up her comb and forcefully brushing her stubborn, sun-bleached blond hair into submission. Normally it was a job and a half, made worse by London's high humidity levels. Eventually, however, she was able to calm the unruly hair and force it back into a stubby ponytail.

The clock read 7:15. That meant there was only forty-five minutes to grab some food, catch a taxi, navigate through Muggle London, and arrive at St. Mungo's at 8:00. _Maybe the food would have to wait until lunch_, she thought, when at least the knew where she was. _Dingo's breakfast (1) keeps you on your toes._ Erin laughed, pulled her thick, black over overcoat from the coat rack and opened her flat door, still not used to the fact that although she had left a hot spring in Australia, the days here were bitter cold. _This has got to be one of the most confusing cities that I've ever had to navigate through._

She caught a taxi outside her flat at precisely 7:25, as gloomy clouds began to drizzle, and was able to direct the driver to within a block or two from St. Mungo's front entrance. The Muggle pulled away from the curb with a large grin on her face, and Erin had a feeling that perhaps she'd paid her a bit too much. _That's how it is, I'll bet, with the Galleons and Knuts and the like. I never was too great at math though_.

At exactly 8:00, Erin met Head Healer Gregory outside his office. The impression he gave her this time was much more relaxed than the day before, where the introductions never occurred. He was a nice sort of man, one whom was quiet enough to be considered shy, but not to the extent he let ideas and controversial notions float by his ears without reprimanding. Order was key in his success as the Head Healer, and the ship he kept was tightly run, and overseen. However, one couldn't help but revere his square wrinkled face and the occasional twinkle behind his thick glasses.

The Head Healer greeted her with a tired smile and a firm handshake and escorted her towards the SOUP ward. "Did Jensen show you Remus Lupin yesterday? I'm terribly sorry that I was unable to," said Gregory, getting straight to the point. Erin nodded, but before she was able to remark on Lupin's situation, the Head Healer abruptly began again. "Good. I was hoping he didn't forget. He often does, you see, forget the mildly important details like that." They continued in silence towards Lupin's ward. Gregory seemed slightly uncomfortable. "Remus woke up yesterday, after you left," he sighed. "He's a bit disoriented, keeps asking where Moody, Kingsley, Tonks are. They're aurors for the Ministry," he added at the look on Erin's face. "I think it might have something to do with what he was doing before he was brought in, but naturally we have no clue what it could be. For all we know they could have been having tea at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Jensen seemed to have an idea about where he had been," Erin commented.

The Head Healer raised his eyebrows and frowned. "Did he now? Well that would make sense; he was the one that originally oversaw the caring for Lupin. Anyway, don't mind if he's a bit disconcerting, all right? He's in a mild state of shock, still terribly weak, and can say things that he doesn't really mean to." Gregory stopped in front of the ward's door. "Once you get to know him, he's really quiet a gentleman. I'll leave you to him." He opened the door and Erin stepped inside.

"Umm, sir?" she asked timidly. "Where are you going?"

"I have other work to do, Miss Langhart. You see, although I am fascinated by Remus Lupin's condition, I have other obligations to attend to. I'm sure you can manage." With a curt smile, he began to close the door. "Call down to me if there's anything you require, understand?" Erin nodded and Gregory shut the door behind her with a click.

Erin took a deep breath to calm herself, walked to the foot of the bed, and picked up the clipboard that Jensen had placed there the day before. Over the top, she noticed that the man in the bed was staring at her. She nodded quickly and pretended to busy herself with the papers clipped to the clipboard.

"Pardon me for interrupting," the man began in the bed in a quiet, labored voice tinted with a dismal tone. "But who are you? It seems to me that I've seen you somewhere else, but I can't quite place it."

Erin lowered the clipboard and took a few steps around the food of the bed to bring her closer to the man. "That would be most peculiar because I don't recall ever seeing you Down Under," said Erin in a cordial tone. "My name is Erin Langhart; I'm the new resident healer. I specialize in werewolves," she added and then frowned. "Well, I'd like to think I do, but it's more I just do whatever is needed." The man raised his eyebrows. "Er, yeah. I used to work for the Aussie Ministry, but..." Erin cut herself off and smiled awkwardly. She felt her face redden.

"I suppose they've already introduced me to you, but I prefer to introduce myself." He held out a weak hand for Erin to shake. Erin shook it as he presented himself. "Remus Lupin," he whispered. His grip was fragile.

"My pleasure." Erin let his hand fall. "So, basically my job is to get you out of here as soon as I can so you can get about your normal life." Tired eyes gazed up at her. _He's nice enough_, she thought, rummaging through the paperwork once more, looking for nothing in particular. _I wonder why they keep warning me about him. I didn't expect he'd be so quiet after all those warnings._ She looked around and pulled a chair up to the side of his bed. "Alright," she began, puffing her ear length hair out of her eyes. Lupin chuckled. "Umm...so, how long have you been up?" She tapped her pencil to an imaginary beat on the clipboard, noticed she was doing it, and gave Lupin a meek grin. "It's a habit I'm trying to stop."

"I've been up since about five yesterday afternoon." A bored sigh.

"Okay, well that's good. Interesting." She flipped through the papers again.

"What's interesting?"

"Well, that's half an hour after I left. Must have cured you on the spot." Lupin snorted and Erin looked up, smirking. "Anyway...do you remember what day it was when you transformed?"

Lupin concentrated on the ceiling. "What you have to understand," he said, "is that I didn't transform before I was injured. I was hit with a rather powerful curse, and that's about all I remember. That was December 24th."

Erin glanced up to the spot on the ceiling that apparently was of some interest, then scribbled down some untidy notes on the back of a page. "Sucks for you to be here during the Chrissie holidays," she said, biting her lip and taking another glance around the room as she waited for him to return his attention to her. It didn't ever happen. "Do you know what curse you were hit with?"

"Yes."

Erin waited for a follow up, but the ceiling had captivated all of Remus Lupin's attention. "Would you mind telling me what curse it was?" She began to tap on the clipboard again, unconsciously. Lupin gave the pencil a quick, horrified stare and looked back at the ceiling. Erin smiled guiltily and stopped.

"Perhaps."

Again, Erin waited for a response, but none came. With a glance from Lupin to the ceiling, she sighed. "Some time this century would be nice."

Lupin smiled at the ceiling and turned to face her. His smile was gone. "The curse was a powerful one, that's all I care to say."

"Well, you already told me that," Erin pointed out. "Would you mind giving me a name?"

"The name is irrelevant, Miss Langhart," he dismissed and shook his head. "I was not..." There was a pause as Lupin debated over a careful selection of words. "...in the right place at the right time." Erin frowned and sat back in her chair. Lupin eyed the papers on her clipboard nervously.

Erin grinned in what she hoped was similar to one of Liam's contagious smiles. It worked. A shy smile appeared on Lupin's lips. "This will be off the notes, this conversation, from now on," she decided, and began to slide the clipboard under her chair, but thought better of it. "Care to take a squizz (2) at these?" she asked and held the clipboard out for Lupin to take. He took it with a wary glance at Erin, perhaps slightly confused, and shifted through them. _I've got to stop using slang,_ Erin reminded herself, noticing, not for the first time, a worried look appear on someone's face at her language. "Before we go anywhere," she continued, "my name is Erin, not Miss Langhart. It makes me sound like an old spinster." Lupin smiled at that, and she returned it, hoping that it would put him at ease. "Now," she finished, "can you tell me what you were doing on that night you got cursed?"

Lupin looked up from the papers and smiled condescendingly, his wariness back in place. "I _can_." He snorted. _Great_, Erin thought,_ I've got to deal with a grammar freak. This is just the type of thing that Liam would enjoy. Why me?_

She cursed under her breath and Lupin laughed out loud. "Will you?" asked Erin, exasperated. _Maybe those warnings were valid. He seems to enjoy annoying me though. He and Liam would get along perfectly_.

"Alright." There was a pause and Erin was sure they were going to repeat the steps of their earlier conversation. Right before she was going to prompt a response, Lupin took a deep breath and flipped another sheet of paper over. He didn't look up as he began. "One of my friends, well sort of a friend, was in danger, so a small group of us went to scope out his situation. We all felt confident that we could come out of whatever the problem was unhurt. It was the day before the full moon. Needless to say I'd taken my potions, so I was perfectly safe." He flipped the sheet he had been reading over and continued. "To make a rather uninteresting story short, we burst into a...an... Um, well...compound and met a large group of...people...and fought them. That's basically it."

"Basically?" Erin wondered with a smile. "What's the not so basic part?"

"What we were doing the rest of the time." Lupin's warning tone was clear enough for Erin to put her hands out defensively in front of her.

"Okay, okay, you don't want to talk about that. Got it. But would you mind telling me who _we_ and _us_ are?"

Lupin looked up from the charts and met Erin's twinkling eyes with stern, questioning ones. "Yes." His voice was very bitter this time.

"Alright, fine, no worries," Erin muttered, a bit put out. "You're going to have to tell me the rest of the story one of these days, though, if I'm ever going to figure out what's wrong with you."

"You'll find there's a lot more wrong than that of what they told you, Miss Langhart," Lupin derided. She barely caught the rest of the mumbled sentence. "My problems would welcome death."

Erin shrugged nonchalantly and conjured a bottle of Sleeping Draft with a flick of her wand, thanking her imaginary wand gods for allowing her do correctly complete a spell. "Take a cup of this, got it? I'm told it's better if you skol (3) it; doesn't taste quite so much." She stood up, turned away from him and measured a small amount into a clay mug that she found sitting by on the bedside table. When she turned back around, he was waiting expectantly for the glass. She traded the cup for the clipboard. "I'll be back sometime mid-afternoon." He raised the cup in a mock toast and gulped it down. Erin took the cup and stepped towards the door, clipboard in hand. Suddenly, remembering something she'd wanted to ask him, she turned around. He was watching her patiently. "Have you told _anyone_ else about that night? Anyone?"

"No. Only the people with me know what happened."

Erin nodded and wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Alright...are you sure?" There was a meek bow of the fading man's head. Erin sighed. "I won't tell anyone either." Lupin nodded and smiled gratefully, fighting to keep his eyes open. _He must be really weak if the potion works that fast on him_, Erin reflected. She left the dark wardroom quickly and hurried down the hall towards Gregory's office. Glancing down at the top paper, she saw written there in a tidy scrawl, _Thank you_. Erin brushed an incompetent lock of hair out of her face and smiled. _He's nice enough for sure. Heck, it's hard to imagine what he's like when he's a werewolf. That'd be weird_. And as she headed down the hall, something popped into her mind. _Damnit, he's _still_ calling me Miss Langhart! I hate the name!  
_

* * *

"Great, you're up," Erin remarked as she walked through the SOUP's doors and saw that Remus Lupin was sitting up in his bed reading a magazine. The chocolate bar had been opened and nibbled on. He was looking slightly less drawn. Erin sat down in the chair she had previously occupied and read the cover of his magazine. "_The Witch Weekly_?" asked she, with an inquisitive face. "What's that? It sounds like gossip central to me."

"And so it is," Lupin agreed. "_The Daily Prophet_ is the only published piece that has anything interesting in it at all. Well, _The Quibbler_ does at times, but hardly anyone takes it seriously. This one's the only one with any worth in that whole pile." He jerked his head towards the pile and Erin inspected it. They were still very neatly arranged. She balked at some of the titles. _Vampire's Tribune?_ She wondered. _What would drive a poor soul to read that?_

"I see," Erin said, but she really didn't see. "Well, I wasn't able to develop any good hypothesizes based off the data I gathered earlier today, but something's in the works. Anyway, I stopped by to say hi. Seeing how you're my only patient, and I've got nothing to do right now."

"Thank you."

"Oh," Erin laughed, remembering his note, "I got your note you left on your medical records. Very funny." Lupin smiled shyly again. _He's got a charming smile_, Erin thought. _I wonder how he looks when he's not as tense as he is right now_. "How'd you write it? Not with my pencil, surely."

"No, not with your pencil," Lupin agreed and closed the magazine. "They forgot to take my wand away," he indicated the nightstand and grinned. "Not that I have the strength to do much more with it than write two words." He chuckled softly and took the chocolate off the table. "Would you like some?" he asked, looking at Erin and breaking a slab off. Erin shrugged and took the piece he offered. He broke a piece off for himself and wrapped the chocolate back up.

"Thanks." She tasted the corner and smiled. It was good, just like the chocolate at home but had a metallic flavor she couldn't quite place. "What type is this? It's good."

"I thought you might like it," Lupin said. "Mungo's imports top quality chocolate from around the world. This is from around Innisfail." Erin nodded in recognition. "It's a lot better than the chocolate I've had from Ecuador."

"I'm not familiar with that place," Erin said. "Is it near here?"

Lupin laughed and set the chocolate back on the nightstand. "No, it's no where near here," Lupin responded with a suppressed smile. "It's on the other side of the world; south of Central America, actually. I'm surprised that you didn't know that." He gave Erin a reproving look; one a teacher might to a child caught misbehaving.

"Naw," Erin giggled. "Why would I know something like that for what I do?" Lupin raised his eyebrows and Erin laughed. "I never did very well in Muggle Studies or Geography, _always_ had a B- in the two. There wasn't a thing that I could do to bring those grade up. Well, beside study for the exams and stuff like that, but why waste all that time when you could be doing something else on a beautiful day?"

"Like what?" Lupin asked, curious, leaning back into the massive pillows on his bed.

"Well," Erin began, "like surfing or boogie boarding, for example. There's nothing like a cool breeze to take you out to sea...but you've got to watch for the blueies (4). They've a nasty sting." She stared out the small window, reminiscing. "The list goes on."

Lupin appeared interested. "I have time," he grinned, rather aware as to how incapacitated he was.

"True," Erin agreed. "Ah, let's see," she mumbled, sitting back in her chair and squinting. "Oh, yes. Well, there was this one time my brother and I rigged Muggle beach coolers to sing 'The Jolly Swagman' when they were opened. We got a ride in the divvy van (5) for that. Father was gobsmacked, that is to say, not happy. He hadn't a clue we were away from school."

"You did that during term?"

Erin shrugged as though it were commonplace. "Of course. There wasn't much to do at the school anyway." Her smile darkened for a split second. "We had to amuse ourselves somehow." She suddenly laughed. "Bailing grindylows up (6) was a favorite."

Lupin was politely amazed, showing hardly any emotions on his tired face. "Have you done that?"

Erin gave him a sidelong stare and pulled a pen out of her robe's pocket. She studied it for a while before gently tapping it on her chair's armrest. "Yeah, I've done it once or twice," she said rather noncommittally. "It was ridiculous more than anything."

"Why?" Lupin asked, eyeing the pen. "It seems to me it would be more _dangerous_ than anything else."

Erin shrugged and shifted slightly in her chair, pen still tapping an intricate beat. "Well, they're dangerous for sure," she agreed, "but come on, they're grindylows! What could go wrong?"

Lupin's smile was reserved. "The students in my third year class at Hogwarts thought as you do," he remarked, "but that was before I brought an actual grindylow into the class." He chuckled. "Wonderful things, grindylows."

"Umm, sure, whatever you say," Erin said dismissively. "Maybe you've never seen a Queen's grindylow, but they're smaller than the other species. Devilish, nasty little spewin' twerps. They're great fun to annoy, but you've got to be able to make a quick get away. They can't run very fast, but damns not fun for you if you stick around and wait for them to catch up." Erin giggled. "The big ones are the only ones that really creep me out," she said with a shiver.

"Where do you find these _Queen's_ grindylows, exactly?" Lupin asked.

"In Queensland, around Mount Morgan. My father owns a house up there, and we sometimes visit it. The place is always crawling with them." Erin shivered.

"Hmmm..." Erin looked the clock on the nightstand and abruptly stuffed the pen back into her pocket.

"I've got to be going," she observed, and stood up. "You want some more of that before I go?" she asked and waved a hand towards the bottle of sleeping potion. Lupin shrugged and Erin gritted her teeth. _Come on!_ She thought. _It'd be more difficult if you were mute!_ "Alright, I'll leave you to it then," she said and left the ward. Lupin sighed as the door clicked shut and stared back to the ceiling.

* * *

Erin woke up at eleven o'clock with jarring pains shooting through her entire body. She was drenched in a cold sweat and her heart was double lapsing. Icy cold hands wrapped around her neck like a vice. _What the bloody hell?_ She thought as she climbed out of bed. She swayed on her feet, stumbled, and was barely able to catch herself on one of the bedposts. The room swam in fuzzy circles about her. _My god, what is this?_ She shambled to the bathroom, grabbing onto anything that she could to keep herself upright. She retched just as she flung the toilet lid up. Vast amounts of horrible, pungent, black liquid poured out her mouth. _It must have been something I ate._

Twenty minutes later, and three more doses of almost garroting on her vomit, Erin stepped away from the toilet and hung onto the bathroom sink for dear life. Her eyesight faded and returned in pulses, making the fuzzy world seem to move as in an old fashioned picture. Carefully, she wound her way back to her bed and picked her wand off the floor. Still not thinking straight, she flopped back into bed and stuffed her wand under her pillow. Her sleep didn't last very long. Within minutes, she was up out of bed again, racing to the bathroom, and doubling over the toilet. _Strewth,_ she muttered to herself, trying to calm the hurling sensation in her stomach, _the fish at dinner must have been rotten for weeks. Weeks and weeks and weeks. Maybe the English like fermented fish; adds to the flavor._ She laughed and then gagged as more dark broth flowed out her mouth. _Damn, I didn't know that my stomach could hold all that. Oh, wait,_ she realized, her mind slowly gripping reality. _I'll check all those medicines I brought with me; there's bound to be something for this._ Reeling slightly, she stood up and sorted through the medicine cabinet behind the bathroom mirror. Erin found a bottle of _Eddy's Excellent Gut Tranquilizer_, unscrewed the cap, gulped half of the red liquid down, and prayed that it would sedate her stomach instead of killing her.

Her mind was her own again, and her stomach was anew. The _Gut Tranquilizer_ tasted like the vomit she'd been chucking, but it calmed her stomach the moment it slid to the bottom of her throat. Squinting, Erin scratched her head and stared at the appalling liquid floating in the toilet, determined to know what caused her so much pain. With a yelp, she ran back to her bed and grabbed her wand from under her pillow. She raced back to the bathroom and pointed the tip of her wand at the blackness in the toilet. "_Delfinum_," she whispered and a jet of blue light encircled the toilet's contents. Squinting, she watched as the spell took hold and began to form pictures that blurred around the vomit in a circle. As soon as she was able to understand one of them, it would fly by at record speed. _Stupid rhabdomyoma, I never was that good at it. This is where Father would take over,_ she thought as she endeavored to see more of visions. Flashes of the SOUP hospital room revolved in and out of Erin's vision. She saw herself sit down and watched as Lupin handed her a slab of chocolate. Then, with a pop, the whole twirling blue mass of light disappeared and left Erin slightly more confused than she had started out as.

"Shit," she whispered as she scratched her chin. "Oh, damn." Gritting her teeth in alarm, she ran back to the bedroom, flung a robe over her pajamas, and bolted towards her flat's door. "Root (7)," she whispered again as she glanced over her shoulder to the clock. _Midnight twenty? Goddamn. It's too late to catch any taxis. Oh, I hope this works_. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at herself. Cowering before it, she murmured the incantation and disappeared with a snap, only to reappear outside the store front that led to the lobby of St. Mungo's. _Thank god,_ Erin thought as she rushed through the glass and into the dark lobby. Slightly disoriented, she made her way down the hall to Gregory Avatt's office and then to the SOUP ward on the third floor.

"Remus," she called urgently as she opened the door and looked around. "Oh no." She knelt by the bed and shook her head. "Dear lord." Her fingers shivered as the felt for a pulse on his deathly cold arm. It was faint, but present. His face was covered in sweat and his breathing was obstructed. "I know just how you feel." Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she tried her very hardest to remember what symptoms like Lupin's warranted. _Come on, think!_ She yelled at herself in her mind. _It's not the transformation, not the after effects...bloody hell what is it? Can't be the lunar phase in accordance to his state. Wouldn't be the sleeping draft earlier in the day; those symptoms would have been present when I checked on him earlier. What is it?_ She sat down in the chair that was unmoved from earlier that afternoon and put her head in her hands.

"Miss Langhart?" Erin slowly raised her eyes to meet Lupin's blood shot ones. His voice was softer than any sound she'd ever heard.

"It's Erin, damnit!" she snapped in her fear-shaken voice, but quickly added, "Yes?"

"What's wrong with me?"

Erin stared at his pallid face in a trance like state, wincing for him every time he had to swallow. "I don't know, but no worries (8). I'll have it figured out" _I hope,_ she added to herself. "Have you been up long?" Lupin nodded and Erin grimaced. "What does it feel like?"

Lupin considered his situation for a moment and then closed his eyes. "It feels like poison," he whispered. Erin felt as though she had just ran into a brick wall._ Of course,_ she thought. _God damn, I have got to be one of the most stupid..._ "But I wouldn't know very much about poison, except for when I take the wolfsbane potion, which sometimes tastes like poison."

_Good, he still has his sense of humor_. "Where's the chocolate?" Erin demanded. Lupin looked over to where it lay on the bedside table. Erin grabbed it off the table and clutched it in her hands. After examining it for a few moments, she turned back to Lupin. "Who gave this to you?"

Lupin frowned. "The Healer Jensen did, I think. It was dark when he brought it to me last night."

"Got it."

"Why is that..." Lupin convulsed in pain and moaned.

Erin set the chocolate on her chair and immediately took Lupin's pulse. It was the same. "The chokkie...chocolate, contains a bit dosage of mercury, which would explain why it tasted so _original_ and why we both felt off our faces with a hangover to match any bogan's."

"You had a reaction as well?" Lupin's eyes blurred.

"Well sure," Erin said, moving the chocolate and sitting back down in her chair. "Otherwise how would I have known to come. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. I was laughing Technicolor for the longest time." A tired smile appeared on Lupin's lips and Erin stood up, turning towards the door. Lupin watched as she drew her wand out of her robe pocket and pointed it to the door. Feeble sparks erupted from the end. "Um, would you mind if I used your wand?" Erin asked as she turned back around, looking at her wand with pure loathing. Lupin shook his head and Erin snatched his wand off the table. "Thanks; my stupid wand is bloody mental." With a deep breath, she said, "_Accio Eddy's Gut Potion!_"

A few seconds later, the red bottle whizzed through the door, leaving a perfect impression of it engraved into the wood. Erin caught it with a smile and uncorked the top. "Here, drink the rest of this," she directed, thrusting the bottle at Lupin who drank it gratefully.

"Thanks," he murmured. "What's wrong with your wand?"

"It's not my wand," Erin responded with a shrug. "It was my mum's wand before she died. We never were able to find a perfect wand for me, so I got Mum's. Works great, sometimes."

"Thanks for coming up here."

The sentence faltered in Erin's mind for a second as she mulled it over. _Right now, or from Australia?_ "Sure," she finally replied after confusing herself. Erin turned back to the door and walked over to it.

"Are you leaving?" Lupin asked with a frightened look on his face.

Erin grinned as she looked back, his wand still clutched in her hand. "No worries, I'm fixing the door."

FOOTNOTES:

Dingo's breakfast: a look at your surroundings and you're off. (no food)

Take a squizz: have a look

Skoll (v.): to drink in one gulp. Rather like quaff

Bluies: bluebottle jellies

Divvy van: a van to transport criminals. (has a division between the back and the driver)

Bail somebody up: attack someone

Root: a quasi-polite word for fuck. Pardon my language

No worries: I'll do it, don't worry...etc.


	4. An Outing to Hogsmeade

**CHAPTER THREE: An Outing to Hogsmead**

Erin stepped through the SOUP ward for what she felt was like the one-millionth time that day. She smiled when she saw Lupin up and walking around. He smiled back and sat down on the edge of his bed. Erin pulled up a chair and began to flip through the massive amounts of papers on her clipboard. Lupin watched thoughtfully.

"You should be thankful, Lupin," Erin told him, pulling a thin packet of papers off the board. "I had to visit Healer Avatt so many times today he practically warded his office off to me." She uncapped her pen and handed it to him. "Sign here," she directed, pointing to a line on the paper. Lupin signed in perfect, graceful letters. "Alright, now I have to sign a load of other places," said Erin, taking the pen back and sloppily scribbling her name down on the page.

"You really could work on your penmanship, you know," Lupin remarked as the pen was handed back to him. He wrote his name extra carefully this time, as if to prove his point.

Erin sighed and snatched the pen back from him when he was done. "Ah, one more thing to worry about on a beautiful day," she laughed, scribbling her name down again, extra messily. She examined the packet again, and then clipped it back onto the board. "That's it for signatures. Actually," she added, "that's it. Done." She stood up and pushed her chair back against the wall.

Lupin followed, grabbing a cane that had been hidden next to him and heaving himself up with it. "So I'm out of here?" he asked uncertainly.

Erin laughed. "Yeah, after a month and a half? You'll have to reintroduce yourself into the real world, you know, since you've been so out of touch for such a long time." Lupin smiled. "See you later, then," Erin said.

"Yes, I guess I'm through with this place, for the time being," Lupin added. "I'll be back, I'm sure."

"Well, try to stay away for a little bit," Erin cautioned. "I'm not so sure that Avatt is pleased about reading a report about you every week. He must know you just as well as your own mother does."

"Did," Lupin corrected without the slightest sign of remorse. "Anyway, it's not my fault that he didn't like to read them. You're the one who filled them with sarcastic and utterly boring phrases like: 'today he slept for four hours and woke wanting more chocolate.' Well."

Erin held up her hand for peace. "You didn't offer any help, now did you?" Lupin was about to respond, but Erin continued. "Anyway, you've got to get back to your life. I'll see you when I do."

"Good bye, then, Miss Langhart." Lupin walked clumsily out of the ward. With a sigh, Erin waited before following him. _I can tell he's going to be one of those patients I'm going to miss_.

* * *

Erin walked through the main hall that led from the permanent ward to her office on the ground floor. She had a lunch break in twenty minutes, giving her just enough time to write up a report on one of her newer patients in the memory loss ward. This new patient was interesting. _Imagine being hit with a memory charm so many times you think you're an eggplant_. Erin sighed and wound her way through the patients seeking help on the Creature Induced Injuries floor, also known as the first. _Motley lot, these_, Erin giggled, knowing she should restrain herself. After all, it had only been two weeks since she had left this floor. A teen, possibly sixteen or seventeen, looked at her with frightened, bloodshot eyes. His left shoulder had been bandaged and his face had several premature scratches across it. Erin winced as she passed him. _I know a new werewolf when I see one_. She shuddered. _I'll be seeing him soon_.

As she hopped off the last step of the stairs that led her almost directly from her office to the first floor, she noticed Head Healer Gregory talking to Jensen in front of the hall that was the direct passage to her office. _Well talking puts it lightly_, she thought seriously as she heard Gregory's voice raise to a roar. _I'll just mosey along this way_, she decided and took the less direct route through the packed lobby. _Serves old Jensen right_, she thought viciously. _I'd sooner trust a tribe of my old Queen grindylows with my life than see that man trusted with my wardrobe_.

The lobby was packed with wizards and witches, mostly with foul dispositions, seeking help from the harassed welcome witch. _Linda's having one hell of a day already_, Erin laughed and gave her friend a wave. Linda answered it quickly, and then hurried to help a wizard that was in the process of turning into a tree. Smiling, Erin dodged through the patients and moved closer to the far less crowed hallway to her office.

"Hello, Miss Langhart," said a familiar voice from behind her.

Erin spun around to see Lupin looking tired, but pleased with himself. "Hey," Erin greeted, moving out of the way of a witch who was shooting flames out of her mouth. "Whatcha doing here?"

Lupin shrugged. "I've got to pick up another dose of your wolfsbane potion, actually." He looked slightly uncomfortable at the question, but managed to smile politely back.

"I see. It's working for you then?" _Great, small talk, my favorite_. Lupin seemed to enjoy her response almost as much as he had enjoyed her first question.

"Yes, much more so than any other that I've taken." He viewed the other patients, clearly bored. Erin giggled as she spotted a woman with an inflated blowfish jammed up her nose appear in the lobby. "What?"

"N...nothing," Erin stuttered, positive Lupin wouldn't approve of her amusement. "Say, I've got to finish writing this report, but I've lunch in twenty minutes. Want to join me?" Lupin was surprised as the offer. "I mean," Erin continued, quickly, "the lines up on the third floor office are _unbelievably_ long. You'll be up there a good fifteen minutes, if you're lucky." Lupin raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Serious," Erin defended at the look on his face. "So what'd you say?"

"Sure," Lupin submitted. "Sounds fun. I'll just go up to the third floor and meet you at your office when I'm done?" Erin nodded. "Great. I'll be off then." With a sharp inclination of his head, Lupin strode to the huge staircase that Erin had just descended, his cane clicking with every other step he took. Erin watched him for a few seconds longer and then made her way to her office.

_Alright_, Erin thought, pulling a pen out of one of her desk's drawers and sitting down to write. _Let's see_. She uncapped the pen and began to write. _Report # 57—Concerning the Mental Capacities of Mr. Vincent Riggley_. Erin giggled. _Probably shouldn't add he insists he's from the genus and species of eggplant_. She considered this for a few moments. _Well, maybe I should. After all, that's key in his whole situation_. Erin brushed a strand of hair out of her face and continued. _Vincent Riggley, admitted into St. Mungo's at three forty in the afternoon on February the eighth of this year, was impaired both mentally and physically by the 'Oblivion' memory charm. After several studies, and two weeks of constant surveillance, it is still unclear if we may be able to lift the memory charm itself or, indeed, ever restore Mr. Riggley to his prior mental state._

_Let it also be known that Mr. Riggley now considers himself part of the..._Erin stopped and flipped through a thick Herbology book that lay on her stacked on her desk. _Eggplant, where's eggplant?_ Eventually, she found the Latin name, which everyone at the hospital preferred, and continued. _Solanum melongena species and prefers to be addressed as 'Fruit'. He believes that he requires massive amounts of water to 'grow', and also complains of the insufficient amounts of sunlight that he needs to complete his photosynthesis process. He neither needs to 'grow' nor does he use photosynthesis to produce his energy. This he gets by consuming about three to four bars of chocolate a day. He also misses his home where, until recently, was located near Devonshire. Apparently, it has been relocated to a floodplain off the Yellow River in China._

_I am not positive why he has gained this extraordinary knowledge about the eggplant. Each of my hypothesizes are based on pure guesswork and I can fairly safely assume that there will be no hard evidence about the causes. The most likely reason, and the one that I am most comfortable in supporting, would be the Reverse Oblivion Spiral Effect, otherwise known as ROSE. I believe whomever cursed Mr. Riggley knew a great deal about eggplants. My guess is that instead of clearing Mr. Riggley's memory, his attacker transferred some of his _own_ memory into Mr. Riggley's mind. When Mr. Riggley was aroused, all he could remember, or even think of, were eggplants, so he assumed that's what he was._ There was a quiet tapping on Erin's door. "Come in," she called, and focused back on her paper. _To read other reports on patients suffering from the ROSE syndrome, see_...Erin searched the stack of books on her desk once more and glanced up at Lupin, who was shutting the door. _Curses And Their Profound, Exciting Effects, by Walter Grimy_.

Lupin sat in a chair opposite her as she capped her pen. He stared at the teetering pile of books. "Your desk has become increasingly more disorganized since I was last here," he noticed. Erin shrugged and stuffed her report in an official looking envelope. "Which unlucky person are you treating now?" Lupin asked with a grin.

"Mr. Vincent Riggley," Erin answered, reading the envelope as she sealed it. "He has the most interesting case of memory loss that I've ever encountered." She tossed the sealed envelope down on her desk and picked her cloak off her chair. "He is now referred to as Fruit," she said impersonally.

"Fruit? Why?"

Erin struggled into her cloak before she answered. Lupin stood up with the aid of his cane as she grappled with the coat, apparently undecided about whether or not he should help her. "Because," she replied, at last, "he's gone troppo (1)." Lupin furrowed his brow. "Sorry. He was hit with the Oblivion charm thinks he's an eggplant now. It's a long story. The Oblivion charm, well, it backfired and created a kind of _bond_ I guess you could say between him and his attacker. Rather like what happened with What's-His-Face and Harry Potter."

"That's not funny."

"Sure it is." She led Lupin out her office door and locked it, grinning at the displeased look on his face.

Head Healer Gregory Avatt appeared from out his office door and greeted her. "Hello, Miss Langhart," he greeted, shaking her hand warmly and peering up at the much taller Lupin. "Who is he?" The Head Healer looked over Lupin's cane with inquisitive eyes.

"Oh, Lupin?" Erin asked, motioning him to come forwards. He did so, rather reluctantly and stood quietly by her side. "He's a friend of mine; we were just about to pop out for lunch."

"I see," Gregory said, bowing his head in recognition. "Well, do enjoy yourselves. I'm off to lunch myself." With a courteous smile, he walked briskly away.

"You didn't mention that I was a patient here for over a month," Lupin noted when the Head Healer was gone.

"Yeah, I know. Why should I have?" Erin stared up into his curious face. He shrugged. _He seems to do a lot of shrugging_. "No, you could have told him if you'd deemed it necessary." Lupin nodded and looked around. "So, where should we go?"

"Umm...have you been to the Leaky Cauldron?" Lupin asked.

"Once," said Erin, scratching her chin, "but it was for some meeting with the Minister of Magic, and I wasn't too keen on the whole situation. Tom was adequately creepy." Lupin laughed at the description. "You want to go there?"

"Or," Lupin continued with a bright smile, "we could go to the Three Broomsticks, down in Hogsmead."

"Hogsmead?" Erin asked uncertainly. "Linda was telling me about that place. It's the only non-Muggle community in Britain, right?"

Lupin nodded. "Well, it's not strictly wizard, either," he added, suppressing a smile.

"Alright, let's go there!" Erin said enthusiastically, pulling her wand out of her pocket.

Lupin eyed it skeptically. "Would it be a better idea if we just took a portal?" he asked, staring down the wand darkly. "I mean, wasn't it just the last time I was here you were complaining about it was so unreliable you couldn't even summon your quill without setting something on fire?"

Erin smirked wickedly. "Relax," she ordered. "I stopped using quills a long time ago. They're more work than what I want. No, I've got to hand it to the Muggles; they've got these awesome pen things that are just great. You only have to buy ink for them every so often, but I get it in these..." Lupin's eyes wandered off across the hall.

"Anyway," Erin continued rapidly, "I've arrived successfully at work six days in a row now without anything happening, or having to take that nasty form of Muggle transportation. What do you call it? Taxis? I think the stars are finally fixing themselves." Lupin pursed his lips, as though he thought that her wand could use large amounts of correctional therapy, and took out his own wand. With a wave, he disapparated and in a second, Erin followed. She landed next to him with a grin on her face. "Told you it would work."

"Welcome, Miss Langhart," Lupin said, not paying any attention to her last comment, "to Hogsmead." Erin inspected the grounds around her and grinned in pure delight as light snowflakes brushed past her face.

Wizards dressed in classic robes wound their way in and out of the rush of traffic, stopping here and there to peer through the windows at different items. Occasionally they would warm their hands in their mufflers while peering into brightly-lit windows, each as ornate and strange as the next. Hordes of rosy-cheeked, blacked robed students, spattered with snow, crowded in and around certain stores, and left others completely untouched. Erin smiled to see a group of students leave, what appeared to be a candy store, loaded down with all sorts of colorfully wrapped sweets.

"That's exactly what I'd be doing, were I that age," she told Lupin, pointing the group out and rubbing her hands together.

"You're not all that far off from that time," he said, sniggering and looking down upon her height as he leaned on his walking stick. His hair was dusted with white powder; the melted water ran down his forehead and nose.

Erin drew herself up to her very tallest, at least a good half-foot shorter than he, before she answered. "Very funny," she snorted sarcastically. "In fact, I'm quite a bit older than them; a good decade, or more." Erin gave him a hard stare, but his smile didn't disappear. She shivered in the cold. "Why are there so many students?" she asked, abandoning her attempts to sober him.

"The legendary English school, Hogwarts, lies just around that bend," Lupin remarked, pointing to a rolling hill covered with thick firs donning plump marshmallow caps.

Erin glanced that way, then back at another small group of students that seemed to have spotted them. "Weird," Erin noted. "This whole place seems obsessed with boars. Makes no sense at all to me." The students were now pointing at them and walking faster. "Um, do you recognize any of them?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the approaching students.

Lupin gazed to where Erin had indicated and smiled. "Yes," he laughed. "I never dreamed we would seem them, though. They're quite good friends of mine, actually," he defended when Erin snorted in skepticism.

The three students approached them. "Hello, professor," a tall boy said. His hair would have been bright red, but had been darkened with the melted snow. Erin looked up at Lupin with an inquiring glance. _What's the boy doing calling him a professor?_ She wondered. "What are you doing here?" He seemed to have overlooked Erin, which was quite a feat, as she was taller than both his comrades were and nearing his height. His friends, a thin, dark haired boy and a friendly looking girl, seemed to have noticed Erin, however. They stared at her suspiciously.

"Not much," Lupin said, smiling down at all of them. _Good thing he didn't miss Lupin, or I'd be worried_, giggled Erin, watching her tall friend in admiration. _I always wished I was over six foot, but five ten isn't far off_. "Miss Langhart and I were just stopping out for lunch." The red haired boy caught sight of Erin and nodded in greeting.

Then the girl began to speak. "What do you do?" she asked politely, drawing her cloak around her.

Erin considered this for a second, debating if it was a good idea to mention her newest patient, Fruit. She thought better of it. "I'm a healer at St. Mungo's," she answered, laughing inwardly to see their reactions to her Australian accent.

"Oh." The girl appeared interested.

"What part of Australia do you come from?" the red haired boy blurted out.

The girl gave him an appraising look, along with a sharp nudge in the ribs. "Ron, don't be _rude_," she whispered. Ron's ears turned pink.

_Oh, strewth,_ Erin thought, completely amused by the students. _He's interested in Down Under, then I'll give him the gab_. "I live in a unit in the Bay area," Erin answered. "Within cooee (2), actually, from the Coathanger (3) and the Opra House. My family's all true blue (4) Cockroaches." The Harry, Hermione, and Ron stared at each other as Erin smirked. "From New South Wales," she clarified with a satisfied smile. "But it's London to a brick (5) you've no clue what I'm saying."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Lupin cut her off from any more questions. He was smiling slightly. "Hermione, we'd be glad to stay and chat, but Erin's got a schedule she must attend to. Not to mention it's fiercely cold out here." The girl nodded and waved as she and her friends turned to leave. "Oh, Harry, Ron?" Lupin called after them. The two boys turned back around, almost hidden in the strengthening snow. "Good luck on making the Quidditch House Cup," Lupin said. They smiled in thanks, or so Erin thought they did, and walked away.

"Quidditch?" Erin asked, interested. "Do they play here?"

"Oh, yes," Lupin answered, ushering her slowly down the streets clogged with snow and shoppers. "Harry is the Gryffindor Seeker and Ron is the Keeper. Harry's been playing since his first year." Lupin opened the door to the _Three Broomsticks_ for her and proceeded to follow. He found an empty booth in the back of the bar and helped Erin out of her sodden cloak then took off his own. A waiter hurried over with two menus as Erin spelled both their cloaks dry. Lupin smiled in gratitude and thanked the waiter as they sat down. Quickly, Erin and Lupin scanned them briefly and then both settled for a dish of fish and chips each. Erin watched their waiter deliver their orders to a heavily colored witch serving a troll.

"Odd sort of place, this," she told Lupin, who was also watching the variety of customers. "Jolly interesting, but just a touch off."

"Yes," he agreed. "Frankly, I find some of the customers a tad...disconcerting, but normally they keep a fairly tame house." Erin glanced back at him, worried. He was smiling and he watched a small pack of goblins enter. "Once in a while a rare goblin comes in to find someone that owes him a score of money, but then, that's exceedingly uncommon." Erin watched the goblins carefully. They seemed docile enough. "That Madame Rosmerta," he continued with a sigh that Erin thought was almost wistful, "she's something else. In my year at Hogwarts..." He trailed off and Erin grinned wolfishly.

"Is the great Werewolf perving (6) the bartender?" she asked, trying desperately to keep a straight face. "Got a crush on her, then?"

Lupin shot her a murderous glare and then shook his head with an appreciative grin. "No," he laughed crookedly. "No, I don't, but I know quite a few men who do." His face loosened for a moment and then resumed its playful smile. Erin looked away from his jovial face; embarrassed she had even asked the question. He noticed. "What?" he asked, smile never leaving his eyes. "Are you wondering who I like?"

Erin rolled her eyes snorted. "Why did that boy back there call you a professor?" she asked, changing the topic to a much safer one and refocusing her attention to Lupin.

He chuckled. "Ron? I taught at Hogwarts, remember? I must have told you that before." Erin crinkled her brow in confusion. "I was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he explained. "Remember the grindylows and hinkypunks?"

"Ahh, that's right," Erin remembered.

"You certainly confused them back there," Lupin murmured, idly playing with his silverware. "I'm not sure they had any idea what you were talking about."

Erin shrugged, but was nonetheless pleased. "For a pommy (7) you seem to understand a great deal of what I say," she noted, then laughed. "No, I try to keep the strine (8) under control, but every now and again it's fun to whip it out."

Lupin nodded, staring down at the table. "So, what is the 'Coathanger', exactly?"

Erin chuckled. "Oh, that? That's the Sydney Harbor bridge. It looks like a coathanger to some people, I 'spose." Lupin raised his eyebrows, but seemed to accept the fact. "So," Erin continued after an uncomfortable pause, "what about the Quidditch? They play a lot here, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, a fair amount," Lupin replied, finally looking up from his knife and fork. "Why are you so keen on it?"

Erin looked away from Lupin's searching eyes. "I used to play," she whispered, not wanting to draw attention to the fact, nor relive the moment when she was banned from playing Quidditch in the Southern Hemisphere ever again.

Lupin suddenly glowed with enthusiasm. "Did you now? As a hobby or professionally?"

Erin sighed and continued. "Well, I played for my House team, Darkton, until the end of my third year, and then got a place on my school team when I was fourteen," she explained, leaning forward onto the table, decreasing the distance between them so she could lower her voice even further. "Then, when I was nineteen, I was offered a position as a Queensland Beater for their National team. After four years of that, the Australian International bought me, and I was playing sidelong Alan Knars and my old school mate Gene Davids. Not to mention Ode Harrow." Lupin smiled. "Yeah, so I played for a good six years on the team before I gave it up and became an experimental wolfsbane specialist." She hoped that was the end of the conversation but, quite obviously, it wasn't.

"I never knew that about you," Lupin remarked quietly. "Six years is an awfully long time to play for one team alone."

_Damn right it is, and I'm proud of it. Just look at Ode Harrow, he's played in Australia for ten years!_ "Yeah, well it was too short in whole," Erin answered, keeping her thoughts to herself. "Much too short. Gene and I got to know Ode fairly well, so he kept us around; the owner wasn't about to trade Ode, and he knew it."

"I've never seen him play," Lupin admitted, watching Erin carefully. "Is he as good as everyone claims he is?"

Erin laughed, not at his ignorance but at those-who-told-him-about-Ode's ability. Clearly, his talents had never been accurately described to Lupin. "He's unbeatable," she whispered, remembering the late night practices she spent marveling at Ode's agility and speed. "I would give a whole lot to be as good as he." She smiled in reminiscence and looked back up at Lupin. "He's unbelievable to watch. I'm actually glad that I was a member of the team and didn't _have_ to watch. He pulls some of the most nerve-racking moves," Erin specified, at Lupin's confused look. "Sometimes he pretends he's a Chaser, and other times he decides he's the Seeker. He's never been a Beater, but he has caught the Snitch once." Lupin was impressed. "His dives are perfectly accurate, and vertical, and every movement he makes looks like he's dancing." Erin giggled then at a sudden image that popped into her head. "Just _looks_ like he's dancing."

"Of course," Lupin agreed, also smiling.

"His favorite hobby is amusing the crowds," Erin noted. "He tries to see how many flips and dives he can work into one period. If he doesn't get more than six he considers his time wasted. You should see his pre-game book."

"A period?" Lupin asked, bewildered.

Erin grinned, realizing she had unconsciously slipped back into her old Quidditch lingo. "Around fifty five minutes or so. They vary depending on the ref, the country, and the hemisphere." She snorted. "So, they're basically pointless measures of time because they're not regulated. The southern periods are a bit shorter than these up here. No one really pays much attention to periods, I guess, except the players and the coaches. The longest game I ever played in," she continued, taking a deep breath and changing the focus of the conversation, "was versus Iceland at the World Cup games in Quebec. That game lasted us thirty-two periods in total, before Gene caught the Snitch. We had to bring on the reserve players to play the night shift." Erin laughed. "Bloody vicious, and bloody cold, game that turned out to be. It was December in Australia, so we were all set to play in the summer. Nasty shock when it turned out to be snowing. On the twenty-ninth period I was fouled three times and given a red tag. Couldn't tell if Alan was more mad at the refs or at me. Ah, well."

Lupin laughed. "You sound like you were quite the player," he said. "I would have like to see you play."

Erin leaned off the table to let their waiter serve them two huge plates of deep fried fish. "I'm still a good player," she responded defensively, unwrapping her silverware.

Lupin shrugged and began to eat his own food. "Why'd you give up Quidditch if you had a World Cup under your belt?" he asked, remembering reading about Australia's victory over Iceland in the _Daily Prophet_.

"Not only did I have one World Cup, but three," Erin said smugly, poking her fish slabs with her fork. "Iceland was the end of our winning streak. We won over Iceland, Puerto Rico, and Germany in World Cups, but we won the Southern Hemisphere Conference five times out of the six years I was on the team. Poor Congo, we had to beat them twice." Erin drifted off, remembering all the games. "I'm quite depressed that Bulgaria ousted us from the World Cup two years back; we'd have beaten the Irish in a heartbeat."

"Why'd you give it up?" Lupin asked, again.

"I...well, I..." Erin stopped and started three times, unsure if she wanted to disclose information about a subject she was rather touchy about. She didn't feel quite alright with lying to her friend either. Finally, she came up with a safe answer and itched her nose again. The smell of stale beer was all but a friendly smell. "Someone can't keep playing forever," she noted.

Lupin shrugged and stared off into space for a few seconds. "You weren't all that old to have stopped playing," he commented, and eyed her in triumph. "What, thirty?"

Erin nodded. "Something like that."

"Well, that's hardly old at all, for a professional Beater. I've not heard of one that quit before the age of thirty two. Mind, only those who weren't hit with a Bludger themselves." He examined Erin for a few seconds longer. "You don't _look_ like you were hit with a Bludger." Erin laughed. "So what's the real reason?" That startled her.

For a few minutes, she picked at her food soundlessly, debating on whether or not to being the Narthing story, but was interrupted when a deep, rich voice called out in surprise. "Remus! What ever are yeh doin' here?" Erin watched with a mixture of fascination and pure terror as a man the size of a humpback yearling, but seeming in appearance to be more of a bear, pushed his way through the thick crowds and over to their table. His hair was almost white with snow, his coat covered, and what Erin could see of his face was red with cold. Erin glanced outside and was amazed to find that she couldn't see past the home blown glass windows.

"Hagrid," Lupin smiled, and slipped his napkin out of his lap. "He's a professor and ground warden at Hogwarts," he explained to Erin and then stood up to greet the much larger man. _I bloody hell wouldn't want to be as tall as this Hagrid_, Erin thought. _Couldn't ride a broom farther than a click without falling of_. "How's everything at the school?"

Hagrid shook Lupin's offered hand enthusiastically; snow fell off his massive shoulders and onto the floor. "Oh, greah, jus' fine." Erin followed their conversation carefully, uneasy about this huge man. "I jus' introduced hinkypunks ta me secon' years. They're righ' an' terrified o' the little buggers. Strange thing, tha'. I know if I were a hinkypunk I'd ah be more afraid o' the secon' years." _You're _anything_ but a hinkypunk_. "Anyway, got tipped off by Ron, Hermione, and Harry that ye were down here. How's stuff going..." Hagrid caught a glimpse of Erin out of his thick, black hair and stopped himself. "At...at You-Know-Where?" Lupin looked as though he could have quite happily jinxed Hagrid, and turned to give a severe look to Erin. She got the message plain and loud: _Don't dare ask him, or me, where that is_.

"Oh, everything is perfectly normal," he said, closing the topic to conversation. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah." For a second, Hagrid looked confused. "Well, I was goin' ta mail," he waved an especially large envelope around, "this ta...ta You-Know-Where."

Lupin looked incensed that Hagrid had been able to weasel _You-Know-Where_ back into the conversation. "I see," he said, coolly and sank back into the booth's seat. "Well, I won't keep you then."

"Nah, ye won't," Hagrid agreed. "Good day ta ye all then." He nodded to Erin and wandered towards the door. Lupin was shooting dark looks at everyone who bothered to look his way. Erin seemed to collect the majority. Surprised by this sudden change in attitude, Erin quietly finished her fish, not even daring to do as much as speak to Lupin.

"I'm really sorry about all this," Lupin apologized when she had taken her last bite. Erin guessed he had finished several minutes before by the look on his face. "I did not mean to let Hagrid's comments get to me like that." He smiled awkwardly. "What were you saying before he arrived?"

"Umm..." Erin tried her best to give a convincing appearance of confusion. "Dunno."

Lupin squinted, also concentrating. "I think," he began, "you were telling me why you left the Australian International Team." _Darn. He's good_. "I can't be too sure."

_I thought I had him there. Ah, what's the big deal_, said another voice in her head. _It's not like he'll laugh at you or something like that. You'll be fine, just tell him. He wants to know. You can trust him!_ _Cannot!_ Argued the first voice. _He won't tell you where you-know-were is; how can you trust him if he doesn't trust you?_ Erin thought this voice had a point, but the second voice chose not to respond. _You'll trust him in time_, it said instead. _Don't you want to?_

"Miss Langhart?" Lupin asked quizzically. Lupin was gazing at her in a worried fashion that bothered her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Erin said, obstinately not looking his direction. "Yeah, fine. I just need a bit of fresh air."

Lupin raised his eyebrows slightly, glanced out the windows at the blizzard, and shrugged. "Of course," Lupin agreed, helping her out of her chair. _I'm fine_, thought Erin defiantly. _I'm not any business of yours to take care of!_ She glanced up into Lupin's eyes, angry and irked, but was surprised to find the worried look on his face absent.

The look that was now present on his face made her forget all the suspicions she had towards him. For a moment, they both seemed captured by one another's gaze. Then, in a fleeting second, it was all gone. Lupin held her coat out for her. Timidly, she eased into it, his hands lingered on her shoulders and then dropped to his side. Erin itched her nose, curiosity welling inside of her. Lupin dug in his pockets for the correct change.

"Allow me," Erin said, stopping his hand with her own. "My shout." Lupin looked as though he was going to refuse. Erin held up her hand for silence and produced eight Sickles on the spot. They chinked onto the table. "It's settled; you're not paying." With a grin that Lupin did not answer, she walked away from their booth with Lupin in tow.

"You didn't need to do that!" he hissed when they were both outside taking refuge from the storm under the _Three Broomsticks_ awning. "I'm perfectly conscious about my money, otherwise I wouldn't have accepted your offer to join you! I'm fine!" Erin turned around to face him, perplexed. His own cloak's collar was pulled up around his neck and one hand was stuffed violently into the borderline threadbare pockets, the other gripped his cane tightly.

"I had no idea that money was an issue for you, Remus," she said truthfully and somewhat surprised. He stopped short, midway through his next sentence and grumbled through the rest. "Honest truth be told, I thought I would pay for the meals since I offered. If it's really that much of a problem, then you can pay in the future." Erin shrugged, not really caring either way. She was confused to see she had surprised Lupin. A slight wind was picking up, throwing bushels of cold snow at them.

"No, it's no problem," he whispered, staring straight into the snow and briefly taking a hand out of his pocket to fix his damp hair. "What was it you were going to tell me?"

Erin sighed at his persistence. "Let's walk," she offered, looking up a barely visible lane that led into the densely wooded mountains. "What do you say?" Lupin stared incredulously at her with a worried look. Erin rolled her eyes and snorted in impatience. Without looking back to see if Lupin was indeed following her, Erin took off down the path.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Lupin asked when he caught up with her sometime later beneath the dark green firs. Snow drizzled down from the sky where the thick branches failed to meet.

She laughed but didn't turn to face him. "I'm fine."

Lupin walked up behind her. "Why, then, are you like this?" Erin jumped round at the closeness of his voice and was caught by his piercing eyes. Again, like at the restaurant, they held her gaze tightly. "Are you avoiding that question?"

"No..." replied Erin, voice dripping with sarcasm, and wrenched her eyes from his grasp. Lupin continued to watch her, confused and cold. Erin was ashamed to have answered so. After all, his intentions were merely polite, correct? _Damnit, if he was being _half_ polite he would have given up this question back in the bar, _a suspicious thought nagged in the back of her mind. _No one can help being curious_, said a far more reasonable one. _It's not every day that a Beater almost kills someone._ Erin sighed inwardly at that remark. _I didn't almost _kill_ Narthing! _She thought shamelessly. _I know_, said the first voice. _But narcotics like you should be let to wander free. _Erin rolled her eyes. _Shut _up, she growled, forcing the nagging voice at the back of her mind to be still. It had one last comment to make. _Don't trust him, Erin. You can't. He's bad news; all werewolves are!_

Erin looked around, embarrassed and horrified that that thought had dare enter her mind. _You dare talk about werewolves that way again! _she thought, beating the repulsive thought into a fine pulp. _You just try!_ _You wait I will_, the voice said with an added sneer. _We'll see that I won't wait!_ Erin cried in her mind. She glanced over at Lupin, who was patiently waiting her response atop a thickly snowed upon boulder. He seemed to have spelled it so the snow wouldn't soak into his clothes.

"I don't like to repeat why..." she began, ducking under a tall tree.

"Well, then don't," he reasoned.

_Just like that voice in my head_. "No," Erin continued, "you're obviously curious and I've still another forty minutes before I'm on call again at Mungo's. A story to pass the time, right?"

Lupin looked unsure. "I don't know if that's such a great idea," he told her. "After all, it's just a Quidditch match, right? Leave it, if you want to." Erin knew this was his polite way of asking her to not tell. _But I don't want to leave it_. "And..." Lupin paused, smiling to himself. He quickly changed the subject. "It sure is cold out!" He rubbed his arms.

Erin rolled her eyes and took out her wand. Quickly, before Lupin could utter so much as a sound, she placed a warming charm around them. The look of relief on his face was comical. "Never use your wand on me again," he requested with a shiver.

"Why'd you leave your job at Hogwarts?" Erin asked, joining him against the boulder. He grunted. _Nice answer, mate. That took real talent to come up with one as good as that._

For a few moments they sat in utter silence, listening to the wind howl through the trees, encompassing every bough in cold snow. A sharp, haunting scream pierced the air. Erin's instinctive reaction was to curse the first thing that moved. Thankfully, Lupin stopped her hand from even reaching her pocket.

"A Golden Eagle!" whispered he, pushing himself off the boulder and watching the gray skies above. A lone raptor circled above, wings never moving. Lupin stared at it in awe.

Erin followed him "What's the big deal?" she asked. "I've seen plenty of falcons back home bigger than he."

"That bird," Lupin answered, turning around to face her, "that bird is hunted; almost none exist in this area of the world. They live up in northern Scotland, near the Isle of Sky, but I've never seen one as far South as this. The people that hunt them are afraid of them, for whatever reason. Muggles do mostly. I think they're afraid that they'll eat too many fish up near the Scottish fishing grounds." He stared at the bird skeptically. "They have enough fish up there to feed everyone in the States for a week."

Erin snorted. "How many are left?"

"A handful, possibly," said Lupin. "Some Muggle scientists are trying to reintroduce them, but the project isn't going so smoothly. It seems that if the fishermen don't kill them off then they die anyway from the climate conditions." He shook his head. "They're so beautiful and graceful. I can't see why anyone would think that they're killers. Hunted because people don't understand."

"Like the people who don't like werewolves?" Erin asked. Lupin contemplated this for a second, eyes boring into Erin's head. She tried to hold his gaze, tried so hard, but blinked.

Lupin smiled. "Exactly."

FOOTNOTES:

Gone troppo: off his rocker. Someone who's been in the tropics too long

Within cooee: very close

Coathanger: Syndey Harbor Bridge

True blue: patriotic Aussie

Perve (n. and v.): to watch someone desirously

Pommy: Englishman/woman

Strine: Aussie slang


	5. A Trip Back Home

CHAPTER FOUR: A Trip Back Home 

"So how long do you guess you'll be gone?" Head Healer Gregory Avatt asked, looking up from a report that he had been reading.

Erin stood at the end of his desk dancing nervously on one foot. "Dunno for sure, sir," she told him. "Probably not for more than a week. It's much too busy here, you know. I mean, Fruit is having one hell of a time recovering, but he has made remarkable progress. I would hate to miss his coming to." Gregory smiled at Erin's name for Mr. Riggley. "Besides," Erin added, more confident now that she had produced a grin from the somber Healer's face, "Australia's not nearly as interesting as here."

"I wouldn't know," Gregory said and set the stack of papers he had been holding down on his desk. "Normally I wouldn't allow a resident Healer to leave with only two and a half months under her belt." He winked. "But, you _have_ worked magic around here, figuratively speaking, so there's always the possibility that I'll let you." He grinned at Erin's rather confused look. "Go on and go, Miss Langhart. You deserve a well earned holiday."

Erin's face split into a smile. "Jolly grand!" she exclaimed. "I'll make sure..." She had rushed out the door so quickly that Gregory was unable to decipher the last half of Erin's sentence. He heard her happily talking all the way down the hall. Chuckling, he straightened his piles of paper on his desk and picked up the report.

* * *

"Erin, I'm so glad you could come! Did you get my letter?" A short woman with light brown hair and sunburned cheeks hugged Erin.

Erin grinned as she was released. "Sure thing, Gene," she answered, looking around Gene's flat. "Got it yesterday. Sorry I didn't have the time to send an owl back or anything; work was busy. Do you know how strange England is?" Gene shook her head and took Erin's trunk. Erin followed her as Gene led the way into a spare bedroom and hoisted the trunk onto the bed.

"Is it more so than everyone says?" Gene asked. "I mean beside the stadium, which I've already been to." Erin nodded. Gene left the bedroom with Erin in tow, telling her friend of recent games, and happenings. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, interjecting her own thought and pulling out her wand.

"Sure," Erin nodded eagerly. "I haven't had any real tea since I left. England's got some good brands, but none beat what we've got here." With a wave of her wand, Gene produced two cups of steaming tea and gave one to Erin. "Still," Erin said between sips of tea, "they've got this really weird ale stuff that I've never tasted before. They call it Butterbeer. I can't say I like it, but everyone else seems to assume that it's socially unacceptable to _not_ like it."

Gene laughed and sipped her own tea. "Sit down and tell me what's been going on," Gene suggested, motioning to a comfy looking sofa behind them.

Erin sank into it. "Well," Erin began, "not a whole lot." She shook her head at the statement. "I mean a whole ton. I've been so busy it's all I can do to send Liam a letter every two weeks. I never receive any back though," she added but she plowed along before Gene could speak, never noticing Gene's attempts to talk. "I've had to deal with about seven or eight really bad werewolf cases; one of them lasted a month and a half." Gene was amazed. "Yeah, it was a long ordeal, but I'm pleased to say that I fixed it." Erin gulped more of the tea down. "Just last month I got switched to Spell Damage from Creature Induced Injuries," continued Erin. "That was a new one. Did Liam tell you about Fruit?"

Gene nodded and laughed. "Can you imagine?" she asked.

"It's kind of hard to," Erin admitted, also chortling, "but he's really gone troppo. Actually, I'm not sure if there's anything that we _can_ do about it. He seems to progress one day and then plummets back down the next. Ah well." Erin sighed. "I kinda like werewolves better."

Gene shuddered. "I don't share the feeling."

"How's Quidditch been going?" Erin wondered. "It's too bad that you haven't gotten the chance to play up in England this year; I'd be able to watch you then."

"It's a good as to be expected," Gene replied. "Our new Beater, Colane Geofferson, isn't quite like you. The bloke's, well, sort of..." Gene struggled to find a good adjective. "He's a bit like a rock, really. He's got no emotion whatsoever. It's really maddening. Ode doesn't like him one bit; no one does, except the team manager."

"That's got to be painful," Erin said, grimacing.

"Yeah, but besides that we've had a fairly successful season so far. I mean, we slaved to stay in the finals for the Southern Hemisphere Competition, but we're in the fourth round now. Ode's definitely not too happy about that. I think it's because Blitz was traded to Yugoslavia and Maxx was traded to the West Russia team. Our replacement Chasers aren't so great. We got a Seppo named Kaylib Smith..."

"Every one in the States is named Smith," Erin laughed.

"And another from Ireland named Benny Blair. Knars snorts every time Blair's name is said in full."

"Who wouldn't?" Erin asked, smiling. The door to Gene's flat opened rapidly and a tall man with short black hair and glinting blue eyes stepped through. He closed it slowly, as if he were waiting for someone to come in after him, and turned to face them.

He started a little, surprised to see Erin. "Well, hallo, Erin," he greeted, collapsing onto the couch next to Gene and beginning to unbutton his cloak. "Didn't expect to find you here." He kissed Gene swiftly and slipped his arm around her shoulders. "What you been doing?"

"Hi, Erick," Erin said, also grinning. "I just got here."

"Did you now?"

"What have you been up to?" Erin's brow contracted as she saw Erick look nervously at Gene for guidance.

He glanced back up, as if nothing had happened. "I've just been doing a bit of work, really, and then I visited Liam later today." Both Gene and Erin were surprised.

"How's he going?" Erin asked, eager for information. "I've been so worried about him; he hasn't written you know. It's so unlike him. When I went away to Quidditch camp he would write every other day."

Erick shrugged but the look in his eyes suggested that he was more than interested in Liam's situation. "He just wanted to show me the documents he's working on," Erick replied. "He didn't get into his personal life very much." Erick glanced back to Gene once more.

"You know the times have changed a lot," Gene began, giving her surrounding a dark look as a sickened sneer formed on her complacent face.

"Meaning?" Erin inquired skeptically, taking a deep breath. If any of the changes were bad, which it appeared to be that they were, and had to do with Liam...

"Ah, I mean, progressed," Gene corrected, obviously seeing the protectiveness in Erin's eyes. "It's a little hard to explain, you know. A bit difficult, really." She pursed her lips, debating on how she should word her next statement. "Have you heard of You-know-who up where you're staying?" she continued finally.

"I've hear of him, but not heard that much," Erin said, knowing what was coming next wasn't good. All the things that she had heard about You-know-who weren't good. In fact, they were some of the more horrible things that she had heard. "Bit weird, really. The whole country is at war, basically. You can't have a conversation without siding with one or the other."

"Well stuff has happened here like what's happening up there." Gene shifted nervously as she saw Erin's horrible reaction begin. "We've had disappearances where hundreds of people, Muggles mostly, just vanish. The government is working to figure out what's been going on, but know one seems to know anything about it. It's really like, if you were a Muggle, what you might think _magic_ was like. We don't like it at all."

"Does this have anything to do with Luka?" Erin asked. Both of the people sitting across from her cringed as Erin said the name. Slowly, Gene nodded. Erick closed his eyes and turned away, his breathing growing faster. There was a small disturbance from over where Erin's room door was. The air hummed unexpectedly for a moment and then lay quiet. Erin watched the spot for an instant, but decided nothing was there.

"Yes," Gene whispered. "it does, or so we think." She stopped for a moment somewhat distracted. Neither of Erin's comrades had noticed the unusual disturbance. "How on earth do you know about _Him_?"

"Well who doesn't?" Erin asked. "_He's _really the only wacka around. Although, I'm not exactly sure _He_ is a human any more," she added. "Father's always praised _Him_," Erin sneered, disgusted. "Liam and I hated it when he brought it up. It was all that he ever spoke of to us." Erick inhaled sharply. "What's wrong with him?" Erin asked quietly.

Gene gave a reassuring squeeze to Erick's hand and grimaced. "Both his parents disappeared," she explained. "Some of the best of us have been hit a little too hard. Yalemon's brother vanished too. All of the best people are coming to work one day and then aren't to be found the next. There's no proof behind it and no logical order, actually not much in the way of anything. Rick and I are convinced that _He_ is behind it." Gene sighed and continued unwillingly. "Some things just indicate it."

"I bet you anything that Father's behind it as well," Erin whispered.

Gene raised her eyebrows. "Maybe."

"My family's been associated with Dark Wizards for over fourteen generations," Erin vindicated. "He'd think it was our duty to join Luka." Cringing from both Gene and Erick again. "After all, we're related to _Him_ a few generations back." Erin sighed morosely. "What I can't understand is how someone so young as _He_ can be such a threat, even to our greatest aurors. It doesn't make any sense."

"We'll put a stop to it," Erick said quietly. "I don't know how, or when, but we will." His voice was tired and defiant. "We must."

"I know," Gene agreed, patting his hand. Erin shook her head as she realized how lucky she was to have left when she had. _This would explain why Liam's not been able to write_, thought Erin as she finished her tea. _He's trying to keep Father at bay_. She shuddered as she thought about it. _I'm so bloody lucky that everything went the way it did..._Erin gritted her teeth.

"That's not what we should be talking about," Erick said quietly. "There are better things to converse over, not this...wicked ordeal." Erin nodded, filled with pity. "Have you made many friends over in England?" he asked, relieved to have shifted the topic.

"Yeah, I've made a few," Erin said as she brushed her hair out of her face. _Damn, I'm going to need to cut this_, thought she_, It's getting to that point_. "Most of the Healers on either of the floors I've worked on are modest to me. Some of them I've actually had the privilege of spending time with. They're and amazing bunch of people, really. I've never seen such a diverse number of backgrounds, or political views." Gene and Erick laughed. "There are a few," Erin continued, remembering Jensen, "that I'd rather _not_ be with, but all in all they're more good than bad. Linda, who is the welcome witch at St. Mungo's, is really nice to me. She was the one that first showed me around London. Then there's the Head Healer; his name is Gregory Avatt. He's really a nice man, but you've got to give him his space. He doesn't like to talk that much, kinda reserved, if you know what I mean. Then there are my patients whom I am all friends with. My first one, Remus Lupin, is one of my better friends. He's the werewolf."

"They make great friends, werewolves do," Gene smirked. Erin gave her a curious stare and Gene shrugged. Gene had just the same opinion as Erin about werewolves. What had changed in the last few years that she'd been away? "You know I'm just joking, Erin. Remember Bennet Flocci at school? He was a year older than us, captain of the Palterdem House?" Erin nodded in recognition. "He was a werewolf too."

"Yeah, I know," Erin agreed. "He's the one that originally inspired me to find a cure for them. They're not that different from us, just more cautious so I've found." Erin's thoughts turned to Lupin. "I've only met a few that were as mean as they're played up to be, but that was because they were naturally just nasty. Most of them are just resentful." Erick narrowed his eyes and stood up.

"Well, I must be going," he said, curtly nodding and picking buttoning his cloak. "I'll see you when I do." Erin raised her eyebrows, knowing that something she had just said obviously upset him. _What in the bloody hell could it be?_ She asked herself. _I swear...he's one _strange_ man, and even that's an understatement_. She waved politely as he shut the door. She never received a response. In stead, the door shut with a click.

Erin turned to Gene. "What did I say?" Erin asked. Gene stared back at her with a small smile playing on her lips. Erin realized that Gene knew exactly what had just happened. "Gene?" Just as it was with Erick, no response ever came but the smile was constant.

"I'm glad you could come," Gene started, abrupt malice entering her calm eyes. Erin's brow knotted in confusion. "It's really great to see you."

"Yeah," Erin agreed uneasily. "Yeah, I've missed you a whole ton." Gene really didn't seem to care. _That's not normal_, thought Erin. She smiled meekly at Gene.

"I sure wish that you had come earlier." That wasn't Gene speaking, Erin heard. She looked around the room and saw a man step out from underneath an invisibility cloak, holding his wand pointed straight at Erin. He was standing profile to her, one side of his face hidden, and smirking mischievously. "I really do."

"Gene!" Erin gasped, pulling out her wand and standing. Her friend was unmoved, not bothered the least by the sudden appearance of a foreign man in the room. "Help me!"

"Oh, she won't do anything of the sort," the man drawled. It was familiar, too familiar. Erin wracked her brains, trying to come up with a name. "You see, she won't do anything that I don't want her to." He brushed his bright red hair out of the only eye of his in view. It was a startling shade of brown. Almost brown enough to be considered black. "I'll have to thank...Erick, that was his name, for lending me a hand. Not that he really had that much of a choice," he added with another grin. His teeth flashed. "I've had my eye on them for quite some time. It's nice knowing that now I don't have to any more but it's even better knowing that I get yet another prize along with them. One that I actually didn't intend to receive...this moment." He turned to face her full on and smiled once more. His left eye, which until now Erin assumed was the exact same as his right, was entirely gone. A long, white scar ran across the hollow of appalling, lumpy, pink flesh.

"Who are you?" Erin asked timidly, holding her wand steady before her. The man took a step or two closer to where she was standing next to the couch. "Stay where you are!" To Erin's surprised the man stopped in his tracks.

"Do you really believe that you can fight me?" he slowly inquired. "After all, it _is_ two versus one." He motioned to where Gene sat as still as a gargoyle. "What do you think?" He scratched his chin, unconcerned with the whole matter. Erin glanced nervously at Gene, wishing she could somehow break out of the man's hold. "Well?" The voice cut though the silence.

"We've had worse odd in Quidditch," Erin said grimly. "And we beat them just the same."

"I've got two very interesting pieces of information for you," the man began, now clearly amused by Erin's response. "One, you say _we_ for it was indeed _we_. Not yourself but _we_." He laughed smoothly. _Smooth like oil_, thought Erin. "Second," he continued, his grin widening, "as you might have already realized, we are not playing Quidditch." He said the words very carefully and precisely, as if he thought that Erin could not understand him otherwise. "Indeed, if we _were_ playing Quidditch, I would be a bit more concerned with my position, but as we're not...I would think it wise to remember that the only thing that matters is what is happening here and now. Now I ask you again: what do you think?" The amusement was gone from his eye.

Erin stared in utter silence. Then, quite surprising her own self, Erin leveled her wand and cried, "_Stupefy!_" Her wand made a feeble spitting and returned to its annoying state of dormancy. The man looked, again, amused. For a brief moment, Erin's heart stopped as she silently cursed the wand.

"You might as well know," the man said," that I really don't need to hear what you think from your own mouth. I can just as easily get it by other methods." It really wasn't a threat; it was more like a factual statement. "It also might ease you mind to know who I am." His face was solemn once more. "As you know my past, which no doubt has been told to you by a very biased source, it would be most informative of myself to tell you that I am Luka."

Erin's eyes widened. "That's impossible!" The man smiled. "You weren't going to do this!"

"Times change, Erin, and they change quickly." He gave her a hard stare with his one good eye. "You never realized I had been working on my plan since the beginning. And it might also be pleasing to you," he added, "to know that I am still human, and mortal. I am no fool like Voldemort. Why spend uncharted time running after the impossible, or plotting murders for some teenage boy that can elude you at every turn?" Erin gulped and held her useless wand at the ready. It might have some surprise up its sleeve. Luka watched Erin, eyes noticing every detail about her, and then frowned. "Your brother never speaks of your courage."

"What's my brother to you?" Erin spat, now fearful. _If _He's _forced my brother into service..._ "My father should be your sole concern with my family."

"Oh, he's no concern of mine," Luka dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Now, if you will please cooperate with me, I will escort you to Helgeler Hall." Luka held his hand out in mock courtesy. Erin neither moved nearer to the slippery man nor lowered her wand. "You leave me with a most...terrible...choice." Luka did not look at all like he thought it so. His eyes glinted in the afternoon light. Erin prepared herself for the worst. Luka's wand swept thought the air and he whispered, "_Stupefy!_" then laughed as Erin's body crumpled to the floor.

* * *

Erin woke up lying on an ice-cold stone floor with a strong sense of vertigo. Pale moonlight streamed in through a barred window barely large enough to let any one larger than a small child escape from. An icy cold wind whipped down its window well and into the darkness of the basement. An extensive pile of snow had gathered at the base of the window; more fluttered through the window. Erin hauled herself up to her knees and rubbed her head as she steadied herself.

The scene around her was an odd one albeit. She stared around her, eyes taking in the shocking contents of the room too quickly for her to manage. The whole place made her head spin. _What's this place?_ Erin asked herself. _A mad house?_

All around her lay scattered bodies. In the half light they all looked to be sleeping. Erin scooted over to the closest one and nudged it gently, hoping to wake whoever it was and figure out where she was. No response came. In fact, the body gave into her shove a little too easily. _Like Gene_. The moon shifted slightly and doused the whole basement in white light. Erin stifled both the urge to scream and to retch all in one moment. _Not like Gene, hopefully_.

She saw, a little more clearly than she would have liked, that the body she had been trying to rouse was dead. Indeed, it may have been dead for several months, even years. His, as Erin saw now, abdomen was sunk in and his skin was peeling away from his angular face like candle wax from an ancient candle. His nose was shrinking back into his head, and the hair he had left was graying.

Panic rapidly engulfed Erin's heart as she whirled around and saw, to her utmost horror, that the entire room was filled with rotten, or rotting, corpses. _Luka_, thought Erin, remembering earlier that day, or so she hoped. _These are all the bodies that had disappeared. All those innocent people_. Erin shivered as the basement door opened and a small group of people emerged at the top of a narrow stone staircase. One pointed his wand at her and croaked _Stupefy!_ Erin slipped into another frightful bout with her subconscious. The two people trouped down the stairs and made their way over to her.

"Why are we down here again?" one asked. His companion bent over Erin and snorted. "Duke? Why are we down here? I'm always bored shitless when I'm down here."

"The Overlord wants a squizz at this one," his mate said gruffly. "Help me hoist her up. Asides," he added as an afterthought, "it's not like we were as busy as a cat burying shit (1) or anything."

"She's not cactus (2)?" the first one wondered, also bending next to Erin and grabbing her arms. Duke grunted and flung Erin over his back. "She looks cactus to me."

"No, she's not carked it," Duke answered with learned patience. "Didn't you see Harrow curse her with his little wand thingy?" Duke plodded his way towards the staircase, sometimes trodding on cold, dead fingers.

His comrade followed behind him like an obedient dog. "I thought he killed her."

"Well, he didn't, Dero. He just blew the pa jeepers out of her mind." The explanation didn't help Dero understand. "I mean _knocked her out_," Duke grumbled, the first signs of annoyance in his voice. "Sometimes I wonder about you." Duke stopped on his way up the staircase to let Dero pass him. His comrade held the door open for him and Duke stepped into the warmly lit study. "Come on, this way." He jerked his head towards one of the many doors. "The Overlord's in the Black Room."

"This is something important then?"

"Useful as tits on a bull (3), you are," Duke growled. "Acourse it's important, Dero."

Erin was deposited at the base of a large, black pulpit at the back of a huge, well-furnished room. It looked to be more of a Scandinavian hunting lodge than anything that belonged in Australia. Immense mounted heads of elk, roebuck, reindeer, and an occasional moose all lined the walls up to the ceiling. Other game, like wolves and lynx, stood on their own platforms, viewing the scene below them. On top of a large river-stone fireplace was a row of the heads from devilish looking beheaded grindylows. A man wearing thick, black robes and smug smile stepped up into the pulpit. He seemed to melt into the dark wood.

"Now is the hour," Luka began, a black patch covering his gouged out eye, "to rise up...up against the titanic hordes that oppose us. We only have to eliminate them who do..." He spoke out to the empty hall before him, voice ringing off the antler chandelier and echoing throughout the room. "Now is the moment when you will dine upon the flesh of those who were mutinous to you. They left you to die, in the hands of one who would not have cared if whole worlds were eaten up in the fires of hell. Abandon your friends and unite under the banner of the real world..._my_ banner!" With a flick of his wand Luka whispered, _Ennervate_, and waited for Erin to wake up. There was a sudden change in temperature as the fire spontaneously billowed into indigo flames. Everything went bitter cold; colder than down in the open basement. Erin sat up and shivered, hugging herself to stay warm. "Join me, my friends," Luka bellowed, "and we will rid this world of our opposition!" Erin looked expectantly around the room. Nothing happened. She glanced up at Luka and watched as his cruel smile turned into virulent victory.

C-CRACK! Erin covered her ears to ward out the horrible sound, but it penetrated mind, flesh, and bone. Her teeth rattled in her head. All the air from within the room was being sucked into the blazing fireplace. She couldn't breath. Figures and colors began to swirl around her as the air was sucked away. Through blurry eyes, she saw the room enveloped in bright ruby light, then go dark. Air returned to her; she breathed freely once more. Ghostly figures poured out of the now dormant fireplace, dimly lighting the room with their own eerie glow. Corpse-ghosts of men, children, women, all glowing a faint yellow, glided out into the open hall and stood eagerly waiting Luka's next judgement. He watched them intently. Erin yelled in fright as dozens of, solid, figures wearing hooded black cloaks apparated next to her and stood at the in front of Luka. They surrounded her so she could do no more than stand up, which she did.

"You, my friends, will be honored beyond record or request. Go out now and make yourselves worthy to carry my banner and complete my tasks." Luka paused, viewing the scene around him with eager eye. "I want no mortal living in Wyndham tomorrow. Slay them all, and leave the carcasses to rot in the sun. Let the aurors do what they may." With another blinding flash of crimson light, the ghost figures vanished, leaving only the black-robed people. Luka stared down at them somberly. "Do what you wish with her." He pointed straight at Erin and the crowd of black figures parted. With a nod, he vanished.

Pain, unbelievable pain, crawled in and out of every vein in Erin's body. She only saw the red fire dancing on the insides of her eyes. She screamed like she had never screamed before, tortured beyond imagination. _Let me die_, she whispered, but it came out as a yell. _End it!_ But the pain didn't end, and Erin knew it wouldn't. She twisted on the floor, praying to any deity she had heard of. _Help me_, she begged, _let it stop_...

"Erin," a voice whispered seeming ages away. "Erin?" It called to her gently. A strong hand gripped her shoulder and shook it. "Wake up." The voice was familiar enough, near enough, that Erin could almost place it with a person.

Erin grunted and tried to rise from where she was sprawled on the floor. Fog encompassed her vision. "What?" she breathed, her voice cracking. The fog was clearing steadily, making way for the bright morning light.

"Erin," the voice sighed in relief.

"Where am I?" Erin asked, vision completely clear. Every inch of her body hurt like fire. "What happened." She glanced over to where the voice was coming from. A figure cloaked in black was knelt beside her. As quickly as she could, Erin shied away in fear. "Who are you?"

"I'm sending you back to England," the man answered. "You'll be safe there." He pulled his wand out of a pocket and pointed it straight at Erin. "Much safer there than here." Erin took a huge breath, knowing it would be the last. The man waved it carefully and then fired. White light surrounded Erin and she lurched off the ground.

FOOTNOTES:

As busy as a cat burying shit: busy, with the usual Australian tact

(2) Cactus: not fully functioning.

(3) Useful as tits on a bull: like ashtray on a moterbike. Not exceptionally well placed, or useful.


	6. That's Just the Way He Runs It

**CHAPTER FIVE: That's Just the Way He Runs It**

Erin woke up lying in her bed, trunk neatly placed by the foot of her bed. Her clothes were still sodden with blood and her body protested every movement she made. Gathering her strength, she rolled out of bed and stood up. She was home, and the whole ordeal was behind her. Curiosity began to dig at her brain. _Who was that man who rescued me?_ She asked herself. _Why?_ She took a few steps towards her trunk and pulled out a clean set of clothes. Carefully, she stripped the bloody ones and pulled the new tee shirt and tracksuit bottoms. _Whoosh, that took a lot out of me_. Without thinking, Erin sunk back into bed, planning on sleeping well into the next decade.

* * *

A soft rapping woke Erin up from a nap she had never meant to take. She jerked awake and organized the papers on her desk she had been using as a pillow. "Come in," she called to the person at the door, closing the open textbooks and piling them in a stack. Slowly, it opened and Erin smiled when she saw who it was. "Long time, no see," she laughed.

"I guess so," Lupin agreed. He looked well rested and much better groomed than when he departed from St. Mungo's a little over a month ago. He stood near her desk, watching her continue to battle the mess on her desk. "Are you feeling quite alright?" he asked, noticing the gash along her cheekbone.

Erin sighed and nodded. She hadn't told anyone why she had arrived back at work so hastily, nor why she tired so easily now. "Sit down," Erin ordered gently. He complied and sat in the chair opposite hers. Erin quickly swept the stacks of papers off the desk in between them. "So, what brings you back?" she asked, slipping her pen back into her pocket. "Want to go out for lunch again? You're just in time."

Lupin smiled in a pained fashion and shook his head. "Well, two things really," he explained, fingering something in the pocket of his tattered robes. "I just wanted to drop by and say hi." He winked and Erin grinned; it hurt her wound. "I can't go to lunch today because of a previous arrangement. Secondly, I came to bring you this." From the pocket he had been fingering, Lupin drew a thick, water stained envelope and placed it on the desk.

Erin took the offered letter almost fearfully. "Who's it from?" she wondered, looking at the blank spot where the return address should have been.

Lupin sighed and stood up from his seat. He paced for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. "It came in the most peculiar fashion," he began with a small smirk playing on his lips. Erin stood and walked around her desk to where he paced. He watched her, but continued his path. "A pygmy griffin delivered it to...to my flat, which he, apparently, mistook to be yours."

"Merlin's beard!" Erin whispered. "A pygmy griffin?" She stopped Lupin's pacing with a fast hand on his shoulder. "Why?"

"Well, you know I've never been very adapt at speaking griffin," he said with another grin, but straightened his face quickly as he saw the look on Erin's. "I find that griffins don't make very admirable postmen," Lupin stated, "which is why it surprises me that your father employs them."

Erin shook her head in disbelief as she searched his eyes for some detection of a lie. "Tell me your lying," she breathed.

"I'm not," he apologized.

Erin bit her lip and opened the letter. Inside the thick parchment envelope, there was a long, folded letter. Erin slid it out and began to read. "My dearest sister..."

Lupin cut her off. "You know you really don't need to read aloud for my benefit, since it's a private letter." He shrugged. "Don't, in other words, if you don't want to."

Erin smiled gratefully up at his kind face and continued. _I hope that everything is going splendidly in St. Mungo's and that the werewolf that you continue to pester me with has recovered. I was most excited to hear from your last letter that you will be working with memory impaired patients. It comforts me no end to know that I no longer have to worry about you being bitten. I hope that everything continues to go as pleasantly as it has been and that you are more careful with mercury in the future_. Erin laughed and itched her nose. Lupin gave her an inquiring look, to which she smiled, and he began his pacing. _I miss you_. Erin's smile faded as she read the sentence. Liam never wrote his emotions on the page, nor would he speak of them so plainly. Never. He was tactful, not blunt.

_Things back at home have grown more complicated. In fact, extremely complicated. In the four months that you've been away, Father has had to sell our flat in Sydney and sever all bonds of friendship with those whom we knew. We've moved back up to the old family estate near Emerald, and are hiding from the public eye. It would be most dangerous if either of us were found. The government has fixed a huge bounty on both our heads. Suffice to say we are living dead men._

_I know you'll want to know why this is the case. Believe me, if I had the choice, which I didn't, I'd still be back in Sydney reading my ancient rune collection and Father would be the only one in hiding. Sadly, as it is with all cases, I cannot go back to that life. In short, Father forced me to join with Luka_. Erin gasped. _And now, little sister, it is pointless to pursue my dreams when I am forced to pursue _His.

_I wrote to tell you to sever all ties with us; to never come back, or come looking for us. We are not your family any more, despite how much I wish I still belonged to that life I had stolen away. DO NOT COME BACK. I know you can't promise me anything, but promise whoever, whatever, something, that you will not return. You were lucky to survive that ordeal in Helgeler Hall. They were going to kill you._ Erin knew that it was Liam who had saved her life. Her eyes wandered for a moment and then concentrated on the rest of the letter. _Your home is in England now, and be thankful. I know you will be one of the greatest healers of our age, and I envy you. Some day we will meet again, but I will not say it will be under good circumstances. Good bye, dear sister, and good luck. Your brother, Liam._ Erin felt hot tears slide down her cheeks as she finished the letter.

Lupin seemed not at all offended by the tears. "Sit down, it would be better if you did," he murmured gently and helped Erin into his vacated chair while she wiped her eyes. Lupin stood behind her, unsure of how to further act.

"I really didn't think it would come to this," Erin began. "I don't want to believe him. It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't seem possible."

"Dare I ask?" Lupin inquired quietly, pulling up another chair next to hers. Erin looked at him sadly and pushed the letter towards him. Lupin took it carefully and gave her an questioning glance as he unfolded it, seemingly uncomfortable with the prospect of reading her post. Erin was stubbornly not watching him. He read the letter quickly, his serious look never once leaving his face. "I am sorry," he consoled, slipping her letter back into her lap. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but thought better of it.

"He was my best friend," Erin muttered, fighting to keep her shoulders from shaking. "He was the only one that supported me. The only one I've ever cared about in my life."

"You need not hold your sorrow inside," he whispered, unpocketing his wand and pointing it at the door. "_Colloportus_." The door locked itself with a squelch and Erin sniffed, still battling to maintain her dignity. Lupin sat next to her in reserved silence, waiting.

"Liam never believed in _His_ ways. He always thought that _He_ was wrong, just like I do. Neither of us agreed with Father. I suppose that when I came here, Father decided it would be an excellent time to add Liam to _His_ ranks. Liam never stood very strong alone, that's why we were inseparable." Erin slumped back into her chair, turning Liam's letter over and over in her hands.

"Were you and he close?" Lupin asked.

Erin nodded and wiped her eyes again. "We're twins," she whispered. "He was born twenty minutes before I. He always called me his little sister and claimed to be a day older, but that was because he was born at 11:50 at night and I at 12: 10 the next morning. Never gave me any mercy about it, either."

Lupin's eyes twinkled. "I would have loved to meet him. He seems like he cared a great deal about you."

"You two would have gotten along perfectly," Erin grinned, eyes red. "Both of you love to annoy me, so there's a common interest."

Lupin laughed heartily. "Indeed we would have made an excellent team, then."

Erin snorted and brushed her hair out of her eyes, which welled with tears once more. "In a way this letter is worse than hearing he was killed," she sobbed. "It's written in his own hand, but it's hurried, you can tell." She pointed a place on the letter out to Lupin. "He never hurried with his writing. He was always annoyingly slow and meticulous." Erin took a deep, ragged breath and continued.

"It's like witnessing his death. I don't know how to explain it. He..." She stopped herself, confused. "It's a great relief to have this, but I don't want any of it to be true. I don't want to believe...believe that he's dead." She bit her lip. "Listen, you really don't need to listen to me make a complete fool of myself if you don't want to."

Lupin cocked his head to one side, speculating. "I believe it would be best if I stayed," he mumbled.

Erin pursed her lips, wanting to debate, but something about the way Lupin held himself assured her that all attempts of rid herself of him would fail. "From the time we understood what family meant, we always had this dream that when we were eighty years old our families would live side by side so all day he and I could play chess and relieve old memories. We would grow old and die together, as a family, and we would never be separated from one another, ever. I guess that dream is just a dim shadow of a better life. It'll never come true now." She closed her eyes and took another deep breath.

"That's beautiful," Lupin commented, face etched with pity. Suddenly, his features hardened into confusion. "Pardon me for asking, but who is _He_? Why don't you give _Him_ a name?"

"He has a name, just like your You-Know-Who here in England. Bloody mess _He_ and You-Know-Who would make if they ever conversed over tea." Lupin gave her a stern look. "His name is Luka," Erin growled resolutely, "but no one says it."

"What was the ordeal in Helgeler Hall? Did it have to do with Luka?" Erin looked sidelong at Lupin who smirked and stared straight at her cut.

Erin fingered it nervously. "You tell me who _we_ and _us_ are the night you almost got yourself blown up, and I'll tell you my story. Seems fair?"

Lupin hesitated for a second and then smiled stiffly. "Only fair." With a polite nod, he rose from his chair and walked to the door. "_Alohomora_!" The lock clicked open and Lupin slid his wand back into his robes. "Once again, Miss Langhart, I'm sorry," he whispered, turning briefly around as he opened the door. "I'm sorry your brother's griffin ever landed on my flat's balcony."

"Don't be," Erin pleaded, also rising from her chair. "Don't be sorry. And please, just call me Erin."

"Nevertheless," Lupin considered, and turned around to leave. "Oh," he remembered, but didn't turn back around to face her. "Promise me you won't go back to Australia?"

"Sure," Erin complied, wishing he'd turn around.

And as though reading her thoughts, he slowly turned and nodded, a relieved smile on his face. "I hope I see you again, Miss Langhart." He nodded again as he left the office and closed the door.


	7. You Know Where

**CHAPTER SIX: You-Know-Where**

It was a little after ten thirty before Erin arrived through the nondescript doors and into the quite lobby of St. Mungo's. The morning patient rush ended barely over an hour before and the midday one wasn't due until 11:45. She had an entire fifty minutes to check up on her patients and wait for the mad rush. Pleased with herself, Erin wandered towards her office to gather her patients' resumes. Halfway through opening her door, Gregory Avatt appeared and coughed. He looked distressed.

"Yes, sir?" Erin asked, always mindful to keep a good amount of respect in her voice. Better safe than sorry. "Is there something I may help you with?"

"There is." Gregory scratched his chin thoughtfully. "A man seeking you has just arrived; well, he arrived about twelve minutes ago. He rather urgently demanded you services." The Healer's eyes wandered up to the scab that had formed across Erin's cheekbone and Erin looked away from his face.

"What's the emergency?" Erin asked the floor.

"Why don't you ask him?" Gregory responded and opened his door. Erin nodded and stepped through the door, thoroughly confused. The wizard most certainly was important if he was waiting in the Head Healer's private office.

An extremely old man with a rugose face sat in a chair reading a magazine. He glanced up as Erin entered and then smiled, crystal-clear blue eyes twinkling. Rising from his chair he greeted her, long white hair swaying. "Albus Dumbledore," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

Erin couldn't help but notice how crooked his nose was. _He's been through the mill a few times_. "Erin Langhart," Erin smiled, and shook the offered hand.

"Wonderful to meet you," he said and sat back down, indicating for her to do the same. Nervously, she followed suit. He leaned back in his chair as if they were conversing over tea. "I require your expertise in a matter that has just developed. I hope you will be able to assist me."

"Sir, no one has told me what the ailment is," Erin said, apprehensive and annoyed. "I don't know if I will be any use to you; I may not be _able_ to help."

"Ah, yes, of course," Dumbledore smiled, not fazed in the least. "But it will not do to speak of the problem where prying ears may...hear." _Okay, that sounds suspicious_, thought Erin. _How do I know I can trust the wizard?_ "It's a curse."

Erin narrowed her eyes. "A curse?" Erin asked. Dumbledore nodded, fingertips together before him. "Yeah, alright. I can probably help you some." She stood up and moved to the door.

"So you are willing to help?" Erin turned from unlatching the heavy door and shrugged. "Then where are you going?"

"Well, I've got to get my potions ingredients, sir. Most curses have antidotes," she explained.

"You store won't be necessary." Erin stared at him. _Okay, now it's even more iffy_. "My potions master has supplied you with more than an ample amount of ingredients."

Erin narrowed her eyes at the title. _Potions master_? "You potions master seems eligible enough to do the healing on his," Erin guessed, "own. I don't see why you are in need of _my_ services."

"Because, Miss Langhart, the curse is one that none of my staff are familiar with." Dumbledore stood smiling, waiting for a reply.

_Staff?_ Erin gritted her teeth, not liking her position. A great paranoia of unfamiliar wizards or witches had grown in her heart since the night that Luka had abducted her. "Very well," she sighed. Dumbledore waved his wand and Erin felt the ground lurch away from under her feet.

The pair of them disappeared from St. Mungo's and landed in the street of a shabby looking neighborhood spotted with the result of the latest snowstorm. A house leapt from the thin air between two of the other houses. Its had fading paint and slouching porch stairs made it look like it had not been lived in well over two decades. _Damn, this whole place really doesn't look so great. I wonder what a guy like this would live here for. He seems a tall poppy enough_. Erin frowned slightly and glanced up nervously as she heard a loud crack of thunder. The sky above the tumbling chimney was a light shade of black, and the wind brought smells of a strong rain.

"This way, please," Dumbledore motioned, leading the way towards the door. Erin followed feebly, fingering her wand. Once inside the door, Dumbledore courteously helped Erin out of her cloak and proceeded down the dark hallway.

Paintings and all sorts of odd things lined the walls. A row of house elves heads made Erin jump unexpectedly against a dresser where piles of brightly wrapped candies were littered. Cocking her head in confusion, Erin proceeded. "Sir?" she asked tentatively, facing Dumbledore, who had been trailing her. "Where are we?"

"An excellent question," Dumbledore remarked, peering down at her through half-moon spectacles. "We are in the house of Sirius Black, although I doubt he'll be out of his rooms with Severus here." The words had no effect on Erin whatsoever. Dumbledore smiled kindly. "And it is also the Headquarters for the Order of Phoenix."

_That doesn't sound so bad_, thought Erin, who very much enjoyed the beautiful birds. "Oh. Well, er, what exactly does either of those titles mean?" Erin asked, watching a painting in interest.

Dumbledore chuckled and beamed down at her. "You will find, Miss Langhart, that the story around both names is much longer than an old man like myself would be able to tell you." He glanced over to the picture Erin was observing. "I see you have found a portrait of young Regulus Black, younger brother of Sirius Black."

"Oh." Erin leaned toward the picture to get a better look at the dark painting. The man in the painting, not more than twenty, stared back at her coolly. His eyes conveyed more than just superiority, Erin thought. There was a trace of fear, and perhaps a hint of triumphant success. She was about to ask Dumbledore about the young man's history when a large bang exploded at her side. Erin jumped backwards as a short woman with spiked pink hair erupted out of the air in front of her.

"Sorry," the woman apologized, bowing clumsily and waving an errant hand. "If it's not the hat stand, it's a person." She eyed Erin with a mischievous grin. "I got Arthur Weasley _four_ times this week. Normally I only land on him twice." She smirked, obviously pleased with herself, and Erin fought to control a giggle. She liked this new woman instantaneously.

"Nymphadora, this is Erin Langhart," Dumbledore introduced, sweeping a tapered hand Erin's direction. His smile had broadened.

"Erin Langhart?" the woman asked in amazement and swept into another clumsy bow. "I read about you," she said when she had straightened. "In the _Daily Prophet_ when you whipped Iceland back a few years ago. That was _so_ incredibly awesome! Never thought I'd see you in person!"

"Thanks," Erin whispered, completely beside herself, "er, Nymphadora."

Tonks shuddered. "Oh, and don't call me Nymphadora," the woman requested kindly, smiling apologetically at the much taller Dumbledore. "If your mum was bonkers enough to name you Nymphadora, maybe then I'd let you." She jabbed her thumb and Dumbledore, who stooped slightly. "He's the only one that can get away with it because his name's a doozy too and," she said, lowering her voice while glaring playfully at Dumbledore. He stared at the ceiling and whistled, wonderfully oblivious. "Quite frankly, I really don't want to duel him." She held out her hand with more formality than Erin thought existed in her. "The name's Tonks," she said. Erin shook the hand and grinned. "What you here for?"

"She's here to see Severus," Dumbledore answered as his focus was averted from a large spider web. Tonks looked queasy for a second.

"Sorry for you, mate," she mumbled, under her breath as she winked at Erin. "Come on." She looked up at Dumbledore and suddenly remembered something. "Ooh, sorry, sir," she said through gritted teeth. "Didn't mean to forget, but then..." She smiled sheepishly. "Right. Well, Mad-eye told me to report that there's been another break out at Azkaban." Erin glanced over to Dumbledore and caught the last traces of anger leave his eyes. "Yeah. Apparently the condition's worse than we thought."

"I will need to leave immediately, Tonks." Tonks smiled when he said her correct name. "If you will please take Erin to see Severus, I will be most grateful." Tonks nodded respectfully. "Thank you. I will see if I can stop in some time during the evening to make sure that everything is going smoothly." His calm face looked wary as he stared around the dark hall. "Voldemort has us at every turn," he sighed. "Somehow we must outmaneuver him." With a curt nod, he disappeared.

Tonks and Erin watched the air where Dumbledore had been for a few moments. Finally, Tonks rubbed her hands together. "Grand fun this way," she muttered, pointing down the continuation of the dark hall. "Damn," she whispered about ten meters later. "Kreacher left her curtains open again." Erin was about to ask who _she_ was, but Tonks shook her head urgently, demanding silence. "Got to be extra quiet, got it? You should do fine as you played Quidditch." Erin nodded, feeling very confused. "Good, then. Come on. Real quiet." Tonks crept forward, silent as a cat, but wavering with every step. Erin followed, trying her best. Everything was perfectly calm until Tonks stepped on a creaky board.

"FILTHY HALF-BLOOD! DESTROYER OF THE GREAT BLACK HOUSE! YOUR DIRT WILL BE THE DEVASTATION OF THIS WORLD! HOW CAN THEY STAND TO LIVE WHEN THE LIKES OF YOU WANDER FREE AND UNCHALLENGED?" A female shriek erupted from a perfectly lifelike painting. The woman yelled with ear-splitting squawks for punctuation. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Tonks menacingly.

"Wotcher, Miss Black!" Tonks greeted, obviously miffed. The woman in the portrait continued to shriek. "Oh, go dunk your head in a fishery!" Tonks shouted above the clamor and yanked the velvet curtains that hung on either side shut. They sprang right back open. Mrs. Black continued to scream. Erin stepped up behind Tonks with some mind to help the poor witch.

Mrs. Black caught sight of Erin for the first time. "Hello, dear," she simpered, voice docile as a morning breeze. "You aren't conversing with her, are you?" The woman pointed at Tonks again and appeared to be readying herself for another tirade.

"Uhh..." Erin replied and scratched her chin, looking at Tonks for help. Tonks was already peering at her in interest. "Dunno," she finished quickly.

"Make sure you don't. They're nasty, horrible, mudblood savers." With a smile, that Mrs. Black evidently thought sympathetic, she vanished from her portrait.

"Awesome," Tonks applauded, grinning from ear to ear. "That was ruddy awesome."

"Good," Erin commented, nervously looking back at the empty painting. "What did I do?"

"You sent the old devil away!" Tonks laughed and gave Erin a hearty slap on the shoulder of congratulations. "We could use a few more with talent like that. I mean, who has pure enough blood any more? Nada." She smirked as Erin considered this. "Come on, then; before she comes 'round again." The pair stole out of the hallway as quickly as they could manage and stopped on the door jam to a large, welcoming kitchen. "'Yello, Molly!" Tonks yelled, making a kindly looking woman Erin hadn't noticed jump straight into the air.

"Tonks!" she scolded. "I might have known when I heard Mrs. Black screaming up that storm. For goodness sake! Can you _ever_ get past the hall without waking the entire house?"

"Nope," Tonks replied proudly, and Molly gave her a stern glare. "Oh, you'll be wanting to thank Erin here for putting the whole thing to a stop." Tonks stepped aside to let Molly see Erin completely. "Erin Langhard,"

"Hart," Erin corrected under her breath.

"Langhart," Tonks continued as though without interruption, "here to get yelled at and then spit on by Snape. Erin, this is Miss Weasley."

"How do you do?" Mrs. Weasley smiled favorably.

"Who's this Snape?" Erin queried, now more worried than she had been about Dumbledore. "And why do you keep shuddering when you hear the name?"

Tonks grinned guiltily and Mrs. Weasley clucked reprovingly. "It's sort of an instinctive reaction," Tonks whispered, talking excitedly with her hands. Mrs. Weasley turned back to her pots and pans, smiling. Erin raised her eyebrows. "Even the name is just plain creepy. Say it." Tonks demonstrated when Erin failed to comply immediately. "Snaaapah." She shivered. "He's the potions teacher at Hogwarts," she explained. "Bloody brilliant, but bloody socially inept. Can't have everything."

The name Hogwarts reminded Erin of something she'd wanted to ask Tonks. "Hogwarts? I've been near there. Er, Hogsmead, or something?"

Tonks nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that town's great! They've got all sorts of shops there, and then there's the Shrieking Shack..." Tonks trailed off. "Bet that's where Dumbledore'll be headed after checking into the Ministry. Poor guy."

"To the Shrieking Shack?" Erin wondered, now very confused.

"No," Tonks snorted, amused at the prospect. "Can you imagine Dumbledore gallivanting off to the most haunted house in Britain while there's things to do? I'm mean, there's the watches to secure, there's the school to keep safe. The list goes on and on and on and on." Tonks grinned up to where Erin was unsuccessfully attempting to follow her conversation. "Naw, mate, he's off to Hogwarts."

"Why would Dumbledore have to go to Hogwarts?" Erin asked, badly perplexed. "Does he teach there, or something?"

Tonks shook her head and snickered. "Mate, mate. He's the _Headmaster_ at Hogwarts. Best one they ever had, he is. They won't get another quite like him, I'm afraid. He's amazing, really." She sighed. "If I were like him," she smacked her hands together, making Mrs. Weasley jump again, "bam, I'd have a lot to fix in this world." She paused, dreaming. "Oh, what the hell. Never going to happen. Come on then...Snape will be waiting." Tonks turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Which room did you put him in?"

"He's in the fourth room on the right," the bright red mop of hair answered from behind a counter.

"Ah, grand. Thanks, Molly!"

"Oh, Tonks?" Mrs. Weasley called after Erin and Tonks' retreating backs. "Try not to wake Sirius up; I'm afraid he still has the hangover from yesterday." Mrs. Weasley didn't appear to be extremely happy about it either. Erin was about to suggest a particular potion that would cure any hangover, but Tonks cut her though off.

"Right on!" Tonks raced up the stairs that led out of the kitchen two at a time. Erin followed breathing somewhat harder than she would have liked and hating herself for it. They stopped near the end of the flight; they had begun to spiral in increasingly tighter coils. "Here we are," whispered Tonks, pointing at a fire stained door. Erin's head was going in circles. "Good luck. I'm gonna hang for a few hours, maybe get Molly to cook me something, so I'll see you when I do. If he gives you too much trouble you can just hex him and then walk away. None of us'll mind that much." She stopped. "Actually, if you do, why don't you do something permanent, so we never have to worry about doing it again. What'd you say?" She giggled at the horrified look in Erin's eyes. "Just joking. See ya, well, I might! You're heading into the front lines of battle, without a red cross smock."

"Alright, see you then," Erin called after the disappearing back. "Thanks!" Erin squared her shoulders and stepped through the door, then sighed.

The room itself was pleasant enough; plainly outfitted and stuffed with bizarre glass urns containing potion ingredients. A slow fire was burning underneath a polished hearth. The only sunlight streamed in through a small skylight above a setting of threadbare chairs. Liking what she saw, Erin turned to the bed and jumped. The surly looking man stared back at her darkly. His greasy, black hair clung to the sides of his face and his pallor demeanor was quite unsettling.

"Er, hello," Erin began, wondering how to approach this stiff man. She desperately tried not to worry about all the things that Tonks had forewarned her about. He stared back at her, dark look deepening. "My name is Erin Langhart; Dumbledore brought me here from Mungo's. He said that you were hurt beyond his healers' expertise. That's why I'm here. I work in the Curse Damage ward at St. Mungo's." Erin stopped abruptly, slightly embarrassed. She was rambling quiet ineffectively, which only made her doubts strengthen.

The man frowned and swallowed with difficulty. "I have no idea what you are babbling about, Miss, and I'm sure Dumbledore did not send you...someone as _inexperienced_ as you. I am not _hurt_ as you put it." He breathed in sharply. _Yeah right_, thought Erin. _You're not fooling anyone_. "I have no need of your assistance, be that what it's called." He sneered.

_Well, if he's going to be stubborn, I'm going to be just as. For some reason_, Erin laughed inwardly, _I seem to trust Dumbledore more than this creep_. "Which curse were you hit with?" For a second, Snape's frown reappeared over the ugly sneer, but it was lost again when Erin blinked. She grinned in victory.

"I wasn't hit with a curse," he drawled. "Like I already explained, I am perfectly fine." His sneer became one of annoyance. Rolling his eyes, he turned away from her.

"I find it hard to believe that a healthy man would spend a nice day like this inside a dark bat hole like this one," said Erin, giving Snape a hard stare.

His black eyes drifted up to the skylight where heavy drops of rain were echoing down. With a significant air, he resumed staring at the fire embers. "That depends greatly on your definition of _good_ weather. You see, some of us were not born amphibians."

Erin ignored him, but she couldn't help but note a certain forlorn tone to his voice. Accidentally, she let out an unbelieving snort to which his sneer grew, if it were indeed possible, more menacingly. "Dumbledore told me that someone was hit with a curse that no one was familiar with and that the Potion's Master was unable to as well." Erin searched the man. "_You're_ the Potion's master, right?" Snape's gaze snapped up to catch hers; his face was expressionless. _I'll take that as a yes_. "And you can't do anything about the problem because _you're_ the one with it. That's why Dumbledore needed to find someone with a potions and curse background," Erin finished triumphantly.

Snape rolled his eyes again and Erin felt the color rise in her cheeks. "By all means," he leered, "tell me how you came to that...remarkable...conclusion." Sarcasm dripped off every word. "Don't," he demanded when Erin opened her mouth to speak. "If you are unable to make anything but obvious conclusions, I suggest you go work for the Australian ministry of magic. No wait," said Snape, sneering. "That's where you're from. I dear say that they trained you well in their art of pure daftness. It was my understanding they took only the least dull. I wonder what the rest of Australia is like if you are in the ministry."

"But I'm not," Erin told him, sighing at his rudeness. "I played Quidditch there."

Snape's eyes lit immediately. "Oh, forgive me," he whispered poisonously, "if I don't leap out of bed right now and offer to shine your shoes for you, for most likely I won't meet someone of your stature again." If looks could kill, there might have been a massacre right in that room. "I forgot," he apologized, not at all sincerely, "your name." He grinned evilly. "So stupid of me. How could I forget the name of the great Australian Beater who almost killed her opponent? You must accept my most humble apology."

Erin felt like truly hurting him. "Well, alright, then," said Erin quietly. Tonks had been right. "Okay." She stared around the room, taking in the names of the potions and ingredients. She glanced nervously over to Snape who was watching her beady eyes and opened her mouth to retort. Her jaw snapped shut almost instantaneously as she thought better of it. Erin gulped, once more embarrassed, and ran a hand through her hair. She gathered her courage again. "What curse were you hit with?"

Snape sighed. "_Must_ we redo our most recent conversation?" he asked, bored. "Because, you see, it will be most tedious for me, even if you want to hear you Australian friends complemented again. You could go down to a Muggle convenience store and buy a tape player. That way I'll only have to say it once and then you can listen to it any time you want. I understand that you won't get confused over the Muggle money, seeing as how you're closely related to them."

Erin bit her tongue to stop another harsh retort. _I shouldn't let that get to me_, she scolded. _Blood's not important._ "Well," Erin whispered, folding her arms across her chest, "you can cooperate with me and then I can leave. Dumbledore wanted the job completed, not attempted." Snape's dark eyes slid over to look at Erin. He was thinking. "So, you can tell me now, let me help you, I can leave, and you don't ever have to see me again." That prospect seemed as appealing to Snape as it was to Erin. "Or, I can come by here everyday until you eventually let me help."

He snorted in disgust. "I sincerely doubt if Healer Gregory will allow his prized resident to spend endless time quarreling with me." Snape stared dully at the fire. "But for the sake of preserving my own sanity, I will tell you." He took a shallow breath. "I was hit with the _Lachesis Curse_," Snape grunted unwillingly. He glared at Erin, as though waiting for her to laugh.

She found nothing funny. "So that's why you're bedridden." She spoke her thoughts aloud. "You're paralyzed from your legs down?" she asked, glancing at Snape's immobile legs. He nodded. "That's fair nasty. How'd you run into that one?"

"I seem to remember hearing that you are solely here to help me, not ask unnecessary questions," he snapped.

Erin backed off. "I can make the Nyctalus potion, which I think will work, and maybe combine..."

"You _think_?" Snape asked severely.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," Erin responded, biting her cheek nervously. "I've only used it once before on the _Paralutikos Charm_, and I'll say it was most effective."

"That charm is entirely different!" Snape scoffed. "You can't expect the Nyctalus to have the same effect. Nyctalus effects the tissue, not the nervous system."

_Damn, he knows his stuff_. Erin pursed her lips, considering. What he said was true, but if she combined it with _another _potion, who was to say that it wouldn't work? And who was to say it wouldn't turn into a lethal poison? _Tonks, this might just work out_.

"Actually, I can." Erin uncrossed her arms. "Listen here. If you've got a better idea, well talk, because that's my solution. Say I combine Nyctalus with maybe a Gybon containing resorcinol and..." Snape was silent. "It's either that or use some Muggle device to get around, and that won't be very sightly up at Hogwarts."

Snape sneered. "I will not be used as a guinea pig," he stated obstinately. "Have you ever mixed the two before?" Erin shook her head. "Like I said..."

"You may just have no choice," Erin mumbled flatly, searching the room and dismissing the subject. Snape grunted. "Do you have any _Monstera tuberculata_? I know it's rare around here, but it'll increase the potions potency."

Snape looked still unwilling to participate in Erin's experiment. After a tense silence, he pointed a long, pale finger to the corner of the room. "Over there by the Black Nightshade and the _Morchella esculenta_."

_What the bloody hell is _Morchella esculenta Erin asked herself. She had been trying to win Snape's good side by impressing him with the few Latin names she knew. It had worked, but now she was in a fix. She diligently wound her way through the carefully ordered and Latin labeled potion bottles pretending to know exactly what each of them were.

"Great," Erin muttered distractedly, trying to sound unfazed, and sorted through the jars. "You have quite a collection, sir," she commented, extremely impressed. Mungo's potion library was only a third as extensive as Snape's. "I'm amazed you're able to find all this." Snape dwelt in his surly silence. Shrugging, Erin gathered the ingredients for her potion and shoved them in her pockets.

"Where are you going to brew that?" Snape asked, looking up. "Nyctalus needs to have constant heat, and you won't find a fireplace in this house that's apt for the job."

"I know what it needs," Erin grumbled, gritting her teeth. "I'm perfectly qualified to brew it myself. My only concern is that if I combine the potions they will fuse into a lunar potion and I won't have it ready for a month."

"That's not going to happen," Snape said confidently and lay back in his bed, sneer reappearing.

"I'll just leave then."

Snape looked overjoyed. "See that you do so sooner than later."

Erin sighed and strode out of the room, grateful to be leaving. With a last nod to the sullen man, which was not returned, Erin shut the charcoal door and restrained from whooping with joy. _The first thing that I'm going to do when I get back to St. Mungo's is study all of my Latin names until even Gregory can't outmatch me_, she swore and began to march down the stairs to find Tonks.

As the distance between the kitchen and Erin decreased, her pace quickened until she was bounding down the stairs happily, to transfixed with her own success to notice what was happening around her. She rounded a bend in the stairs almost at a run and door on her right opened. A tall man stepped out and right into the path of the joyous Erin. They collided with a crunch, sending both of them hurtling into a wall and tumbling down a few stairs.

"Sorry, sir," Erin apologized, feeling guilty and embarrassed. She offered the man a hand up and hauled him to his feet. He carefully dusted himself off before responding. Dirt poofed off his shabby robes.

"There's no need to be," he mumbled and looked up.

Erin almost fell back down the stairs again. The man seemed just as surprised. "Remus?" Erin asked in astonishment, barely catching herself on the door jam. Lupin watched her in a calculating way she had never seen before. He looked half irritated and half captivated by something or another. "What are you doing here?"

Lupin smiled quaintly, face drawn. "I live here," he replied plainly, shrugging. "What are you doing here?"

Erin ignored the question for the time being and leaned against the wall. "I thought you told me that you lived in a flat," she accused, rubbing the place on her head that had collided with Lupin's ribs. "That's where you said the pygmy griffin delivered the letter."

Lupin shook his head. "I had to come up with something that you would believe, didn't I?" Erin furrowed her brow. "You wouldn't have believed me if I told you I lived in a house that was impossible to plot and invisible to any unless Dumbledore personally told them where it was." He shrugged again. "I don't know how the beast was able to find me, or why it didn't find you instead. I delivered the letter to you personally because I had no idea what it was about. It obviously knew about this house somehow."

"Oh."

"Now will you answer my question?" Lupin asked politely and smiled. "You have no idea how entertaining it is to never have any of your questions answered."

Erin smirked and pointed up the stairs. "Dumbledore came for me earlier today and now I have to brew a potion for Snape." Lupin's eyes twinkled and Erin scowled. "It's not bloody funny! Do you think I seriously _want_ to help that git up there?"

"I think a safe answer would be no," Lupin whispered, chuckling. Erin felt like throwing him another hard knock to the ribs. "As a warning, he won't thank you," Lupin sighed and then he broke into a huge grin. "He does, however, seem to have made a lasting impression on you. That must be a record for him...getting on someone's hit list in an half-hour. He must be very proud." Erin sneered in an uncharacteristic Snape sneer and Lupin laughed out loud. "Have you met Tonks?" Erin nodded morosely. "I'm afraid that she hates Snape almost as much as you appear to. You two should join forces."

"I think we might just," Erin scowled.

"Come, let's go see what I can find in the kitchen; I'm starving."


	8. The History Lesson

**CHAPTER SEVEN: The History Lesson**

"Wotcher, Remus!" Tonks cried when Lupin stepped off the last stair and into the kitchen. "Times fare well?" Lupin shrugged, appearing distracted. Tonks set down the spoon she'd been using to eat her soup with and stood up. "What's..." Erin hopped down the last few stairs and Tonks broke into a huge grin. "Blimey! She survives!"

Erin smiled. "Hello," she laughed. "Barely came through though."

Tonks stared darkly in the direction of Snape's room. "Tell me," she whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially, "did you follow through?" Lupin gave the pair a worried look before disappearing into a pantry like room.

Erin laughed. "I would have never been able to cure him of his first ailment," she explained to the exasperated Tonks. "Plus, who would believe me if I went in there to fix his problem and he turned out to have six or seven more?"

"I would," Tonks smirked, and sat back down in her chair. "You could have said it was an _accident_ or something like that. Pity, really. We haven't had that good of an excuse to curse him in a long time." She stirred her soup absent-mindedly and Lupin reappeared into the kitchen with a large barrel of crackers and a slate of Brie cheese. "Awesome!" exclaimed Tonks as Lupin set his findings down in the center of the table and popped the barrel's lid off. "Where'd you find all that?"

"Down on the floor," he responded, sitting across from Tonks and motioning for Erin to sit next to him. "Kreacher's probably already eaten half of all this." He tipped the barrel and looked inside. "Yeah, about a fourth is missing."

"Eww! It's contaminated!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tonks," Lupin lectured, producing a knife and slicing the cheese open. Tonks grinned.

"Who's this Kreacher?" Erin asked, accepting the cracker that Lupin offered her.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Little twerp that runs around the house all day saving all the junk he can get his filthy little hands on. He's a complete nutter. You know what would be grand? If he keels over and dies in a few days; that would almost be better than Snape kicking the bucket." She was silenced with a stern stare from Lupin.

"He's a house elf that has served the Black family for years," Lupin argued, smothering a cracker with cheese. "I will be the first to admit he's not entirely...sane...but he's a house elf; what do you expect?"

"Not entirely sane?" Tonks exclaimed, astonished. "He's more than not entirely sane. The little dinosaur is, well, the devil's spawn. Horrible, nasty little moron." She dove into the cracker barrel, plopped her prizes into her soup, and dunked them. "Remus, no one in their right mind would trust the little bugger. I really can't believe that Sirius hasn't ordered the twerp to kill himself. It'd save us all the favor of placing traps around the house.."

Lupin glared at Tonks, but Erin was sure she saw the corners of his mouth twitching. "Tonks, I know you're the only one who sets traps around the house."

Tonks was slightly deflated at Lupin's comment. "Right. Not my fault that the rest of you don't take action." Erin and Lupin glanced at each other as they tried to keep straight faces. "Well, come on. It's not like I don't have reason..."

"I know," Lupin agreed and sighed. "I know." He appeared to be slightly nervous.

"So, Erin," Tonks continued turning to Erin, who had just wolfed down a large cracker. She grinned sheepishly and Tonks laughed. "How'd you get into the Order? I mean, normally Dumbledore doesn't allow foreigners, except Flur who's Bill something or other, and Cevin, who's from South Africa." Tonks paused. "Oh, yeah. And Alan. But, normally, he doesn't let them in..." Lupin and Erin looked at each other and laughed. "Okay," Tonks grumbled, "so there are more than a few in the Order. Big deal."

"Flur is Bill's fiancée," Lupin corrected under his breath.

Tonks waved the correction off. "Right," she said. "So what's with you? Don't think you're anyone's fiancée or anything."

Erin shifted uneasily, not knowing exactly what Tonks was talking about. Her eyes drifted over to Lupin, who was enticed with cutting cheese for his next cracker. She shrugged. "I wasn't aware I was a part of anything," she answered truthfully.

Tonks narrowed her eyes. "What?" she wondered, very surprised. "Didn't anyone tell you about the Order?"

"No one told me much," Erin responded. "Dumbledore mentioned that was where we were going, but he said nothing else."

Tonks almost choked on her soup. "Blimey, Erin, that's not on." Tonks turned on Lupin, who was now not looking at either of them. "Did you know about this? I mean, come on. Someone had to have."

Lupin kept his eyes on the knife as he responded. "Yes." Both the women in the room stared at him. He shrugged and reached back into the cracker jar.

Tonks swatted his hand away. "You knew? What?" she asked as Lupin tried to look innocent. "We can't blery just have people joining." Tonks had completely forgotten Erin was even there. "Do you know how dangerous that could be? With people we hardly know?" Lupin glared at her, glancing over at Erin apologetically. "What the blery hell! Remus, had you any idea..."

Lupin's lip curled slightly as he stood suddenly, surprising both Tonks and Erin. "Yes," he said defiantly before Tonks could finish her sentence. "We're all friends here, Tonks, and I expect you to treat..."

"Does she know what you involved her in?" Tonks cut in, outraged, but this time motioning towards Erin. "Did you ask her, Lupin? Or did you think that she'd be so blery grateful..."

"Tonks, that will do!" Lupin roared, flipping the knife he was strangling into the table. It stuck, point embedded in the worn wood, and quivered where it stood. Erin was sure she'd never seen a butter knife embedded in a slab of wood before. Lupin pulled his chair back towards the table and sat heavily, seething as he glared at Tonks. When the knife finished its last wobble, he yanked it out of the table and lay it flat. His eyes never left Tonks'.

Erin suddenly spoke up. "We need to talk." Tonks and Lupin's heads both swiveled to look at Erin. She was standing up, watching Lupin with a look of utmost betrayal. Tonks shot a nasty look at Lupin and then immersed herself with eating the remainder of her stew.

Lupin blinked once, twice, and then coughed. "We need to do _what_?" he asked, extremely startled and utterly confused.

Erin glowered. "You heard me."

"I did indeed," Lupin agreed bitterly. "But I'm not sure I get the meaning."

"Yes you do."

Lupin paused and then stood up. "Very well, follow me." He glanced back to Tonks, who gave him a falsely cheery wave, and then led Erin down the hallway she had originally entered through.

They turned off into a dimly lit room chock-full and overflowing with books of all shapes and sizes. Quickly, Lupin pointed his wand at the vacant fireplace and muttered, "_Incendio_" then turned around to face Erin. His face contorted almost to a sneer before he continued. "What did you want to tell me?" he spat in a tight voice.

Erin watched just as fiercely. "I didn't want to tell you any bleeding thing," Erin hissed, scathing. "What did you get me into?"

Lupin's eyes widened slightly and then he relaxed, his posture loosening. Calmly, he sank into a plump green sofa in front of the fire. "Listen, Tonks was being, well, a bit...hmm." Lupin thought a moment and watched the fire. "Tonks doesn't want a rival," he whispered levelly. "She is, well...I don't even know if my suspicions are right." He muttered something or other to himself then finally turned back around to face Erin. "I need your help."

Erin gaped at him, not knowing if she should curse him or listen. He patiently waited her response. "You what?"

"I need your help," he repeated and Erin rolled her eyes.

"I know that; you just said so," Erin scowled, moving to the other side of the sofa cautiously. "Why do you need it?"

Lupin groaned, rubbing his ribs where Erin had unceremoniously collided with him, and turned to face her. "Look, Erin," he began wearily, "I know this is all my fault, but you've got to listen to me." Erin rolled her eyes. "Erin, please." She sat down and nodded once. "I'm sorry; I'll say it now so you know it. You can blame me, whatever, but hear me out." His voice suddenly grew quiet. "Tonks is right, about one thing at least. There are so few wizards out there we can trust now. Either the wizards want no part in the whole event or are already recruited to Voldemort's league." He stared pleadingly across to her.

"So you think you can trust me?" she inquired, somewhat more rudely than she was intending.

Lupin inspected her for a second and then nodded. "Yes. Why shouldn't I be able to? You saved my life, remember?"

Erin shrugged grimly, not thinking the event should have any part in their discussion. "Yeah, I did, but that was because Gregory told me to," she countered. "You don't have anything of my doing to trust me with. You don't know..."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Do you not want me to trust you?" he whispered softly.

Little red warning flags went up in Erin's brain. _What is that supposed to mean?_ She stared thoughtfully into the fire. _No, I want him to trust me_. She caught herself mid sentence. _But why?_ "Go on," she mumbled.

Lupin sighed and continued quietly. "I want to know I can trust you," he muttered, looking straight at Erin somberly. _Okay, that's unsettling_. "Whom can we trust when there are none left?" he continued quickly. "You told me yourself that you were used to all of this...war, I suppose. Your father is a follower, right?"

Erin felt her throat constrict. Briefly, she nodded. "Don't bring my family into this. They're not followers of anything you're familiar with," she whispered, shuddering.

Lupin narrowed his eyes. "What happened to them?" he questioned, deciding against her warning.

Erin quickly shot him a pained look and then sniffed. "I..." For a moment, it sounded as though she might tell him. "I...told you not to bring them into this." Lupin was unfazed and Erin saw it. "Don't ask me," she pleaded. "Just lay off."

"Why?"

"Because I bloody told you to!" Erin suddenly bellowed, slouching back into the couch. "You can't even begin to understand what happened. It's impossible," she whispered, and didn't notice Lupin shake his head.

"Fine, but listen here." Lupin took a deep breath and sneezed. "Stupid allergies," he muttered under his breath. "There is good reason for you to be here now, and most of them all tie in together. That night I was brought to St. Mungo's, I was attacked by a group of Death Eaters." Erin sat up, eager to hear what had happened the night Remus Lupin had almost been killed. It had piqued her curiosity ever since he had refused to give her any information the day she first confronted him. "Tonks and Kingsley were with me; so was Mad-Eye Moody, but you don't know who he is, yet.

"Severus was the one in trouble. He...well, he's a spy for us and is seen by Voldemort as one of his followers. That night, Severus had relayed some information to Voldemort that, apparently, he didn't like. The four of us burst into their meeting in hopes of grabbing Severus and then disapperating back to these Headquarters. Alas, that's anything but what happened. Naturally, Voldemort fled as soon as he saw Moody and left his followers to clean up. We had planned to make it appear that our attack was just a routine sweep by the aurors, but..." Lupin shook his head and didn't finish his thought.

"About six or seven attacked us at once, and four versus seven aren't very good odds, even when you have the best auror in England on your side. Severus...he tried to disapparate before any of the Death Eaters saw that we were with him, but Bella hit him with Imperio, so it was a bit difficult to get him out of there without him blowing one of us up." Lupin sighed. "The rest is...what do they say? History?" Erin smiled in spite of herself and Lupin sighed foolishly. "No. Kingsley, Tonks, and Moody got out of the whole thing just fine, but after they had disapparated Severus and prevented me from dying." He snorted at the memory, as if he thought it was more embarrassing than heroic.

"What were you hit with?"

"The _Avada Keverda_ curse," Lupin shrugged. "The only reason that I was remotely alive was the fact that I was in the process of transforming into a werewolf. The strength that it gives me, and the agility, impeded all their attempts to well, destroy me." He grinned wily. "I must admit. My friends aren't numerous in their group."

"If at all," Erin smirked, but shook her head. A brooding silence fell over them again. "So Snape's unwilling to tell me anything about his dealings because he doesn't want me to know he works for both sides?" Erin wondered, speaking softly. Lupin nodded. "Well, that explains more than it doesn't," she remarked and leaned back once more. "What happens now with him? Won't Voldemort kill him as a spy because that Bella person realized what was going on?"

"No," Lupin replied, interlocking his fingers in a thoughtful manner. "No. Voldemort wouldn't go as far to say that Severus is a traitor. Severus plays a very thin line between both of the groups. Dumbledore will swear on his life Severus is loyal to the Order, and Voldemort will do the same but claim the Death Eaters instead." Lupin sniffed. "I, for one, trust Dumbledore completely."

Erin narrowed her eyes. "But he could be wrong," she reasoned.

Lupin nodded. "He could," he agreed, "but he's not. Severus has sworn he is a changed man, and if Dumbledore accepts that, then I will as well. Snape has provided Voldemort with trivial information, but it keeps Voldemort occupied. You-Know-Who also wants to make sure that he maintains his inside watch on Harry while he's at school."

Erin sighed and rested her head on her hand. "So."

"So, I want you to help me," Lupin continued. "I..."

"Now you've got to listen," Erin said regretfully. "I can't help you. It would just screw things up instead of help them. I mean, I'm really honored that you gave me the chance, but you really don't want me here." Erin grimaced. "I'd be more of a hassle than anything else."

"I don't think you would."

"Well, there you go again. You don't really know me well enough to say if I would or not." Erin shrugged, dismissing the matter. The two of them sat in silence, both staring into the cackling flames.

"What do you need to tell me to make it so I could decide?" Lupin asked suddenly, making Erin jump at the unexpected noise.

She turned round on him and raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so interested?" she wondered, skeptical, but trying to keep a light tone about the conversation.

Lupin sighed and then laughed out loud. "You've got to stop assuming that anything anyone is ever going to ask you is going to lead to your downfall," he mused, his hand drifting back to his aching ribs. "Not everyone is 'out to get you'. Nor is everyone trying to help you. You have to see the difference between the two."

Erin regarded the comment carefully, sliding her now shoulder length hair out of her face. "Suddenly a great philosopher?" she scoffed, regretting the comment as soon as she had made it.

Lupin didn't seem to mind it as much as she did. He looked at her in the same teacher-caught-a-student-misbehaving way. "I'm willing to help you if you're willing to help me," Lupin whispered, taking a last stab at his original point.

Erin groaned and rose from the couch. "How can I help you?" Erin wondered, sneer appearing sidelong her freckled nose. "I've already told you. All I'll end up doing is screwing up your life, any life that comes across my path. That's what I do; I destroy people's lives. I've already destroyed two, who's to say that more aren't on the line?" Erin held her wand out in front of her like a conductor's baton and brandished it like a sword. "I dissolved my family...you read about that already. That was all my doing, all of it. If I hadn't have left..."

"You would have joined as well," Lupin finished, also standing up. "Your brother said it himself, why can't you believe him?" Lupin's face hardened into sadness for a second but cleared. "I see your problem, Erin," he whispered. "It's not that you think everyone will turn on you if you warm up to them the slightest bit. You take all the blame, don't you? Everything that ever goes wrong's your fault."

Erin stared up into his searching eyes half willing him to leave and half wanting him to stay forever. Her wand shook slightly as she responded. "My mother was killed when I was eight," she began, whispering and not looking anywhere near Lupin. She felt the tears well in her eyes. "She was killed saving me from being bit by a werewolf that had found me when I tried to run away from home, like all kids do once or twice. I didn't intend to cause anyone any harm; I don't even know why I did it, but I did. That's when my life ended, and started, all in the same moment. That's when I told myself I would stop caring about anyone, but it never worked out. I should have let go right then and there, but I hung onto that old life, wanting it to never end, but it faded as well." Erin shuddered in horror. "It slaughtered her and...and I watched the whole thing. She was only trying to save me, but I killed her. Luka saved me when the Werewolf turned to me." Erin paused for a second. "I never did figure out who the Werewolf was before Luka killed it."

"What?" Lupin yelped in surprise.

"Luka's my cousin," Erin mumbled fearfully. "My cousin three rounds back or something like that. But he didn't save me until after my mum was dead. He could have saved us both, but by that time he already had his plan worked out...you know, his plan to rule all of Australia? Yeah, saving her would have altered it too much for his liking. But saving me...it almost worked out for him. He almost got me.

"My mum's death changed my father dramatically. I saw the light go out of his eyes when Luka and I returned back to the old estate without Mum and told him what had happened. It vanished, and so did all the smiles and the laughter that I used to hear so often. I remember when he used to read to us every night and coach me with my flying." Erin stopped, shaking now more terribly than before. "But that all came to a halt. He blamed me for everything and I, being so young, blamed myself because I knew it in my heart he was right.

"By the time I was in my third year at school, I was near suicidal. Quidditch was the only thing that kept me sane. I think I was able to vent all my anger on the field, whacking Bludgers at opposing players. Indeed, if I hadn't been accepted to my house's team, I probably wouldn't have made out of there alive. But I did." She sighed regretfully. "And Liam and Gene were the only two that knew anything about what I was going through. I didn't tell them everything; not even close to everything, but they got the general idea and that's what saved me.

"How would you like that?" she asked painfully, meeting Lupin's eyes squarely. The same feeling came over her that had all those months ago at the Hogshead. "What would you do," she continued violently, trying to force the emotion out of her mind, "if everyone you ever cared for, all of them, were ruined because of you. Because I exist; that's why they all suffer. I don't mean to do anything to them; I would never _dream_ of hurting them. But I do. I always have and I always will."

"It's not your fault!" Lupin argued. "You can't assume all that responsibility."

"It's not my fault, is it, that my father hates me?" Erin snarled sarcastically, a hint of penance developing in her voice. "Not after I ran away from home and killed my mum in the process? Not my fault that my father nearly tried to kill me?" Lupin looked reproachful. "That's what he did," Erin spat. "That's what he did on the night that I went back to Australia. He tried to murder me, along with all the rest of his pathetic little friends that follow Luka around hand and foot. They tried to _kill_ me! You wouldn't know what it was like...to see your father watch them torture you and do _nothing_ to prevent it!" Erin sobbed and dropped back onto the couch. "I have my reasons to fear the world," she whispered. "And they _are_ many."

"When did you go back to Australia?" Lupin wondered, grim face replacing the sadness that had earlier occupied it. "Didn't we make agreements that you would never go back there? Isn't that what your brother warned you against?"

"I went back before I got the letter," she choked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "I got the letter because I went back. Liam was the one who saved me from dying; he teleported me back here before they could kill me." Lupin nodded in understanding and Erin sniveled. "It's all gone now, Lupin, everything. And I don't want loose you or Tonks."

Lupin shook his head. "No, Erin, you don't understand. You can fight them now. You have strong allies. You'll be safer here. I'd feel safer if you were here." He brushed his thumb to wipe a stray tear off her cheek. "You belong here now. Everyone would vouch for you; I would be the first one. Tonks will probably hate me because I beat her to it, but she would be a close second. And no matter how...distant...Severus acts, I'm convinced that he will also stand behind you when you need him too. I know I would."

Erin was sure she saw a tinge of color seep into his cheeks. _What's he so worked up about? _Erin thought amusedly. _My story can't be that tragic...I mean, he's in the Order. Lots of bad times must happen to have needed an anti-Evil group like this. _She looked back into his kind, solemn face. A stray thought crept into her mind. _ I wonder why he connects with me so well._

"We need your help, Erin." Lupin's voice jogged her back into the present. He looked her straight in the eyes as he added, "Every one of us here does."

"I liked it better when it was just _you_ who needed it," she replied off-handedly as she tried to work out the last thought that came into her head. "Do you have another tissue I could use?"

Lupin's brow furrowed momentarily. He reached for his wand and conjured up a box of tissues, which he handed to her. With a shrug he thought conveyed the fact that he could care less, which Erin saw not to be the case, he sighed. "Very well then," he replied. "Accept your position in the Order because I asked you."

Erin sighed and bit her lip. Finally, she stuffed her wand into her pocket. "Alright," she agreed quietly, but determinedly, after she had put an extra tissue into her pocket. "Alright. It sounds like a plan." Her voice was more rickety than she would have liked, but her peace at mind was calming. Lupin bowed his head and chortled quietly. _I should smack him_... Erin thought and laughed nervously despite herself. Quickly, before he had time to react, Erin flung her arms around his neck gratefully. "Thanks for watching out for me, Remus."

He awkwardly patted her on the back before she released him. "No problem." He deliberately avoided meeting Erin's inquisitive eyes. "However, I think that we should make our way down to the kitchen; Tonks will think you've killed me by the way you stormed off after me." Erin grinned impishly. "She will be most upset if we don't return soon, and I daresay I don't have it in me to duel her." Nodding his head in a courteous bow, Lupin hurried out of the room ahead of Erin. She followed, smirking.

* * *

"Gregory, sir?" Erin asked, stepping through the heavy door to the Head Healer's office and seeing the Healer perched on the edge of his desk looking somewhat forlorn. "You wanted to see me?" She stared over at the chair where Dumbledore had been sitting only two weeks before. The day seemed like a year ago.

"I did...want to see you," he agreed, sliding off the desk and sighing. "Erin, I'm sure you're aware that your contract is up," he said bluntly. _Really?_ "And I'm sorry to say that we can't keep you on. Because of recent events at the Ministry, our funding has been cut dramatically. I wish that there was something that I could do, but..." He trailed off regretfully, deciding that his silence was better than petty excuses. "I don't want to see you go; you're the most remarkable Healer that I've ever had the chance of working along side. I truly wish that I could keep you around, we could use six or seven people exactly like you, but the Ministry has other priorities."

"Sir, I understand," Erin stated sprightly. "The times change." Gregory looked extremely relieved that she thought so. "You don't need to say another word. I can go pack up now."

"Erin, we were going to have a going away party for you," he began, but Erin cut him off, suddenly not feeling the urge to be overly respectful.

"Really, sir, there's no need to. I wasn't very well known, to say the least. I can just have a few of the people that I did get to know over, or what not." She smiled. "I will say that you're going to be top on the list." The old Healer reached out to shake her hand warmly. "I'm sure going to miss the place," she added, taking his hand. "See you 'round." Without a look back to the remorseful Healer, Erin left the office with mixed feelings.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" she half screamed when she turned around from shutting the door to her own much smaller office. Her hand fluttered over the pocket she kept her wand stored in.

The man with bright red hair smiled at his greeting. "My name is Arthur Weasley," he explained, rising from the chair he had been sitting in. The name was vaguely familiar. "I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts part of the Ministry. Please," he said, "don't be alarmed." Lowering his voice, he continued. "I'm part of the Order. Dumbledore wants to speak with you as soon as you are able to."

After another moment's pause, Erin shrugged. "Okay, then," she agreed hesitantly, stepping over to her desk and quickly cleaning the place up with a wave of her wand. She stuffed her pen into her pocket and bowed to the man. "I'm ready when ever you are."

He looked slightly astonished at the abruptness of her movements but shrugged. "Very well."


	9. The Turn of the Tide

**CHAPTER EIGHT: Turn of the Tide**

Mr. Weasley conjured a ragged book of Latin names that had become like a diary to Erin. Swiftly, he set it on the clean desk and held his wand above it. _"Portus_," he whispered and stepped back slightly as the book glowed with blue light. "Come, he'll not want to be kept waiting." A little less cautious than was normal for her, Erin walked forward and gripped the book just as Mr. Weasley did.

Erin's feet lurched off the ground as colors of indistinguishable objects swirled around her. She landed in springy grass a few moments later as disoriented as she had ever been. "This way," Mr. Weasley motioned, walking around the edge of a huge stone building.

Erin shook her head clear and followed the stout man closely. The scenery around her was familiar; thick, green furs and wild grasses eating up the land. Several lakes were strewn about, the nearest one seemed to house a large disturbance, whatever it would prove to be. The water rippled and boiled ruthlessly. Unconsciously, Erin slipped her hand into her wand pocket as she hurried to keep up with Mr. Weasley.

Huge doors swept wide as the pair of wizards turned the corner of, what appeared to be a turret. Hagrid, although Erin had difficulty realizing who it was, bumbled out singing an out-of-key song loudly and waving a great red flag with a bold griffin center stage. Erin grimaced as they drew nearer to the giant man, not wanting him to recognize her and begin asking questions about the last time he'd seen her. He didn't; he didn't see either of them. A trickle of students also wound their ways out onto the wild pitch surrounding the castle. Erin dodged around the majority of them, hurried into the building gratefully as the doors shut, and looked around in awe.

A massive ceiling, far above her, stirred as staircases pivoted round and round. Pictures of wizards donning ancient robes and suits of brightly polished armor lined every hall like an audience chamber. Erin turned in circles as she followed Mr. Weasley, trying to see as much of the hall as she could all at once. _Amazing_, thought Erin as they passed a set of open doors that led to a mess hall where patches of black robed students were conversing. Candles floated throughout the room, pouring gentle light onto the gleaming floor. Mr. Weasley steered her down the length of the hall when she stopped to peer in a room overflowing with living foliage.

The farther they went down the hall the more and more packed it became; at one point it had been near impossible for Mr. Weasley and Erin to pass through the crowds. Most of the students were holding flags or banners of either red or blue and yelling in congratulations or anger. Erin bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the whole scene. Mr. Weasley greeted a group of students ornamented with bright red scarves.

"Hello, Ginny dear," Mr. Weasley breathed, sweeping a girl with bright red hair like his own into a great bear hug.

"Hey, Dad. What are you doing here?"

Mr. Weasley chose not to answer this question directly, or at all, as he released the girl. "Did Gryffindor win the match?" he asked instead. Ginny nodded proudly and all about her, her friends whooped and hollered with joy. He smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"We slaughtered them," she exclaimed proudly. "Harry did such an amazing dive at the end to catch the Snitch before Chang did." Her hand demonstrated what appeared to be quite a vertical swoop. "Ron blocked all the Quaffles left and right. It was so cool."

Her father chortled at her enthusiasm and Erin tried to not look too interested. "That's wonderful, Ginny." Mr. Weasley patted his daughter on the back. "Send Ron and Harry my congratulations and tell them that your mother will hear of it as well." He took a good look at her friends. "Well, I must be going." Without motioning to Erin, he continued his trek down the mobbed corridor. Erin could feel Ginny and her friends' stares bore into her back.

After taking more than a few detours caused by the unpredictable staircases, and impenetrable black masses, they finally arrived in front of an immense statue of a gargoyle. Mr. Weasley walked up to it and held up two hands as if he were going to cast a wandless spell. "Sugarquill," he spoke clearly. _Damn that's strange_, Erin decided when nothing happened. _Maybe he should try_...The ground beneath her feet began to shake slightly, and a deep rumbling erupted from the gargoyle. Slowly, the gargoyle began to turn, emitting the bright light hidden behind it. Yet another staircase was revealed in back of its stony wings. Mr. Weasley turned to Erin and motioned to the twisting stairs. "Dumbledore awaits you."

Erin raised a dubious eyebrow and sighed in submission. Without another hesitation, she started up the stairs, listening to Mr. Weasley's fading footsteps and the occasional murmur of a passing group of students. Once at the top, she opened the heavy Queen Mary style door and stepped inside.

Dumbledore sat at a desk in the back of the room, surrounded by odd silver instruments that appeared to have some use, but Erin would be damned if she knew what the spidery objects were for. A phoenix with bright plumage sat on a golden stand to the right of the desk. "I'm glad you could come," Dumbledore greeted in his customary whispery voice. Erin bowed at the waist respectfully. "I must say that Severus has improved greatly, although he won't admit it," Dumbledore frowned. _No guesses why_, muttered Erin. _Not many men, or women, with a social disorder do, you know_. "Please sit down." Dumbledore waved his wand and indicated the portly chair that appeared in front of his desk.

Erin took one last sweep of his office before settling herself into the comfortable chair. "Why am I here?" she asked, hands on her knees, before Dumbledore had the opportunity to explain.

Without so much as a look of impatience, which Erin didn't know how he managed, Dumbledore began. "Gregory informed me that your term was expiring when he and I last met," the old Headmaster clarified. "I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to bring you here to see the premises and meet what staff you can." He placed his fingertips together and watched her, as if he knew what was on her mind.

"For what reason?"

"I want to offer you the job as the school's nurse." Erin recoiled at the term. _What bloody respect do you get as a '_nurse_'? About as much as a basilisk with a seeing disorder_, she groaned, answering her own question. _I don't like the stupid Muggle term...we're _healers_, sir. Not any doctor or nurse. Merlin!_ Erin thought she saw something like amusement dash across the Headmaster's face. "Poppy will be retiring at the end of this year; I thought maybe you would like to see how she handles the students. We could use a good Healer like you, and as you've shown yourself more than apt for the job through Severus..." There was a pause as he surveyed her pensively. "Of course," Dumbledore continued, "I can understand if you would rather try out for the opening for a new Beater for the Welsh National Quidditch team."

Erin's eyes flicked up to meet his kind ones. "No one told me about that," she admitted, intrigued. Dumbledore's face was carefully unreadable as he told her the details. Erin considered all of them mindfully. "Do mean to tell me that the Welsh National Club has tryouts planned for this week only?" Dumbledore nodded, his eyes smiling. "Damn that doesn't give anyone very much time." Erin pondered her credit, completely forgetting about the job he'd just offered her, and then fearfully glanced to Dumbledore. "Do you think that they would care about..." _Maybe he doesn't know about my accident with Narthing_. _Hmmm_.

"I don't think they will."

_He knows?_ Erin asked herself in disbelief. _Since when do all these pommy wizards know everything about my past?_ "Great," she exclaimed, relief flooding her mind as she shrugged off her caution and stood up from her chair. "Oh, sir?" she muttered, turning around and completely mortified with herself. "I...uh, I..." she began quite less intelligently than she would have liked.

He held up his hand for silence. "No, I quite understand, Miss Langhart," he dismissed with a casual smile and a wise glint behind his glasses. "It is hard enough keeping harnessing my students to their studies; I would not like to have to do the same with you."

Erin hoped he meant that he'd rather not have to tie her to her job. _I'm not feeling up for studying just yet. You can only stand being a Healer for so long before you need to feel the whip of cold wind across your face and..._ "Thank you sir," she whispered and bowed again. "Thank you for telling me about the Club."

The smile that now appeared on Dumbledore's face made it appear that it had been his intention from the very start. "The tryouts are held at the Belton stadium in Cardiff all day tomorrow starting at eight in the morning," Dumbledore replied. Erin turned to go, but halted in her tracks as Dumbledore began to speak again.

At first it seemed as though he was speaking to himself. "I took the liberty of having a few of my personal house elves move your belongings into the Headquarters from the hospital flat." _Took the liberty? That's a Stately saying enough_. "I hope you don't mind." Erin quickly shook her head. "Excellent. I suppose I'll just show you where the portkey is..." He stood slowly, easing his chair away from him, and shuffled around the desk past where Erin stood. Carefully, he examined a set of sinewy silver instruments strewn about a table. "Ah, here it is," he remarked, "I was so worried for a second that young Potter had destroyed it in his demolition episode, but then...that wouldn't make very much sense now would it?"

"Um..." None of what Dumbledore said made very much sense to Erin. "No." A sudden question sprang into Erin's mind. "Er, sir..." She never got around to finishing her thought.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I will inform Poppy that she doesn't have to retire. She will be most pleased." Erin had to think about what he said for a moment. "Here you go," Dumbledore offered, before she was able to comprehend what he'd said last, and pointed to a thin working model of the galaxy. Erin reached for it and heard Dumbledore uttering orders. "If Minerva is there, tell her the Order's meeting is going to be later tonight, and if Molly Weasley is there, tell her we'll be expecting well over the normal head count." Erin gripped the silver Jupiter and saw the extraordinary room begin to swirl around her. "Cheers!" she remembered Dumbledore laughing before being engulfed in colors.

* * *

Erin shielded her eyes from the morning sun as it rose above the peak of the Belton stadium and steadied her glossy Ashur960. The flying conditions were more than she could have hoped for; a cool breeze, not too much moisture, and no thermals. It was good. Next to her and around her in a semi-circle, fifteen other Beater hopefuls hovered in the air, waiting as Welsh team flew out to meet them. One skidded to a halt in the center of the group.

"Alright all you," he shouted, his silver hair streaming behind him, "my name is Hawthorne Bates. It's my job to pick one of you lads out for my replacement." _Lads and lasses, buddy_, Erin scowled, looking around the group and seeing she was the only woman there. _Hmmm_... "And I got the entire team here to help me." He motioned behind him to where the six other people dressed in bronze and blue robes floated. "Okay, so we're going to start by breaking you off into teams, well groups I should say, of two. The one who performs better will stay, the other is," he jerked his hand over his shoulder, "a goner. So you got to be good if you want to stay. We're gonna switch watch every two rounds." His voice rose to a roar. "Any questions ye blokes?" Not surprisingly there were none. He counted them off into groups of two and assigned each group a member of the Welsh Club. Erin's group was the last to be assigned; there were three of them instead of two.

"Fancy seeing you here, Langhart," a cool voice drawled from behind her.

_Whoa, _thought Erin. _I've not heard a voice from Down Under in months it seems_. Erin spun on her broom, then nearly fell off. "Hugo Narthing?" Erin staggered, completely astounded to see her victim of two years flying in the bronze robes. "Hello?" she ventured and reached out a hand.

His navy blue eyes scrutinized her hand shrewdly and he finally shook it with his own leather gloved one. His long, rippling mahogany hair flew wildly about his pale face. A great long gash wound its way along his right cheekbone, stopping dangerously close to his eye. "I'm pleased to see you flying," Erin said and, surprisingly, meant it whole-heartedly.

"Nice broom," he commented, gazing at her broom with admiration.

Erin grinned, pleased to see that he returned it. "It's the newest one on the line," she explained eagerly.

He sneered and turned away on his Firebolt, pulling his wand from his shirt collar. A summoned Bludger bolted up to where he hovered. With a flick of his wrist, it froze and Hugo turned to address the rest of his group. "You heard Bates. The Bludger is going to try to attack _me_, and your jobs are to knock it away. Clear?" Erin and her male counterparts nodded. "Good. Here are your bats." He summoned three well-worn practice bats, handing the roughest of the lot to Erin. _You think you're jolly fun_, Erin sneered as the splintering bat was tossed to her. _I'll show you fun_. "Alright...GO!" The Bludger peeled off into the clear skies and out of view for a moment.

Erin's counterparts flew around Narthing, each battling one another for the better position to defend the Seeker. Erin rolled her eyes at their fruitless attempts and scanned the skies, her right hand on her broom handle, the other gripped firmly around the bat. The other Bludgers from different groups hopped through the sky, momentarily distracting. There it was, her Bludger streaking towards Narthing. Erin bolted forward to meet it, out distancing her competitors by more than two seconds. She top-cut it, sending it rocketing back towards the ground and moved alongside Narthing.

He raised his thin eyebrows as she drew nearer, sneer appearing on face. "What do you want?" he asked. Erin shrugged as the two other men pulled up next to her.

The Bludger, far below them, had bounced off the ground and hurtled towards the sky. One of the men, a big beefy one, dove and collided with the wriggling brown ball. Narthing sighed and flew down to where the man was holding his nose in pain. _And he couldn't see that one coming? I wonder about Narthing. That great gargoyle obviously had it coming for him_. Narthing flashed Erin a grin as he pulled his wand out once again and clean up the bleeding nose. _Or maybe he does_.

"Okay," Narthing began, when all three people were lined up before him again and a frozen Bludger under his arm. "Let's have another go. On three: One, two, and three! Go!" The Bludger sprang to life and Narthing was barely able to duck it before it took off right where his head had been. _Real smooth_, Erin decided giddily. Again, as the Bludger reversed and plummeted back to earth, Erin rose up to sideswipe it. Her arms jolted with the force. Erin could hear the two men behind her as she glided back to where Narthing sat unmoved.

"Who the bloody hell is that, Helver?" one asked.

"Dunno, but I'm sure as hell not going to let some woman beat me at a game. Stupid..." Erin blocked out the rest of the sentence.

"Reckon she thinks she owns the place, being a woman," his companion agreed. Erin could feel their eyes, and heard their whispers as if someone was shouting inane language in her ears. She felt her face burn with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

Narthing watched scrupulously her for a moment, and then pulled his Firebolt into a sharp turn to meet the men as they neared. "What were your names again?" he asked without the slightest movement in his face, other than his lips. Both men looked to have been caught fighting a war without a plan of action. Narthing waited patiently as Erin effortlessly ricocheted a Bludger away.

"My name's Ulrich Helver," the burly man who had clashed with the Bludger said.

His counterpart licked his teeth in a self-conscious gesture. "Bill Th...Th...Thayn," he said quietly. Hugo Narthing simpered sarcastically then bowed mockingly into his broom handle. Erin diverted half her attention to watching the conversation as she kept a clear eye for the vanishing Bludger.

"I'll have you both report down to Bates that neither of you will be continuing past this round, understand?" The two men were respectfully flabbergasted at this unexpected turn of events. Narthing pointed to where the grizzled Beater oversaw the practices. "I would rather not have to go tell him myself." Obediently, both men flew off without a second glance back. Narthing turned back to Erin, who had successfully tackled the Bludger and was gripping it with one hand tightly to her chest.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked, also surprised. "I thought for sure I was going to be ousted because of what I did to you back in Australia."

He laughed outright and shook his head. "No, no I wouldn't hold a grudge against you for that long," he answered. "I'd have to thank you, if anything, but you wouldn't take it, nor understand why." He shrugged, tossing his hair over his shoulders. "No, you'd probably pelt me with the same Bludger if you were given the chance." Erin nodded and Narthing laughed richly. "I thought so; I've always thought that to be the case." His dark eyes focused on her face overwhelmingly. "Why would I dislike you for something that would never be changed?"

"Is that a warning, Narthing?" Erin inquired, shifting the struggling Bludger into her left hand and tucking her bat under her knee. "Should I just pack up now because I'll end up nearly killing another player up in this hemisphere?"

Narthing shook his head wisely. "No, Erin." _Erin?_ "I wouldn't, if I were you. You'll like this team, I'm sure. And the rest of the team will be more than pleased to have you along for the ride."

Erin scratched her chin and pulled her wand out from her shoe. "_Immobulus_," she whispered and caught the Bludger as it fell from her grasp. _Awesome,_ she thought, _my wand didn't blery blow the Bludger up. Cool._ "Are you giving me the position right now?" Narthing shook his head. "Why are you blatantly saying that I've scored the post?"

"Because you will," he said simply. "I mean, look at these blokes," Narthing gestured around the stadium. "Most don't even know their left from right. How do you expect any of them to be 'okayed' by Bates? He's not a stupid man, you know."

He turned his broomstick with his knees, drawing uncomfortably close, and reached out to take the Bludger leisurely. _Watch it buddy_, spat Erin as his slow hand drew closer to where the Bludger was lodged under her elbow. _Don't go there; it's not your turf_. But, he did. Grinning wickedly, he casually eased it into his own hands and spun it in his hand. _Bates isn't stupid like you, right?_ Erin glared at him. "What's that for?" he murmured, eyes flashing. Erin quickly drew away, confused. Narthing seemed to come to his senses as the sun caught his eye full on. "We'd better go report back to the boss." _What's the hell wrong with _him? Erin asked herself as they flew over Hawthorne Bates.

"What _are_ you doing, Narthing?" the old Beater asked when the pair drew near.

Narthing pointed at Erin and Bates watched expectantly. "This is Erin Langhart," Narthing said as Bates grinned and caught the Bludger that Narthing threw his way.

He palmed it between his index and ring fingers easily. "Langhart, eh? Well why didn't ye just come and tell me that in the first place," he asked her. Erin just stared at him as though he'd lost what mind he had left. "It'd be a hell of a lot better than having to explain to all these dolts that the position's already taken. Next time do that, got it, squirt?" _What the bloody hell? Where'd he come up with 'squirt'? It's not like I'm short or anything. This place is going to the dogs._ The tarnished man laughed out loud. "You sure that ye want to work with her, Narthing? The one that nearly killed ye?" Smirking, Narthing nodded. "Great Scot this is grand!" Bates cried, overjoyed. "I never did think you'd come here," he told Erin. "I thought you were off at that werewolf daycare camp for good." _Call it that one more time, buster, and I swear I'll knock your teeth out with this bat_.

Bates gestured regally around the stadium, turning his broom with his knees. "Welcome, kid, to the Welsh International Club. Narthing, go round up the rest of the team and send these blokes packing." Narthing flew off as Bates turned all his attention to Erin. "Let's see what you can do." He tossed his slick bat to Erin and demanded hers in return. He swept his hand over the still Bludger and watched as it tore away from his grasp. "Can you under-swipe it?" he asked. Erin nodded uninterested. Obviously, he was trying to make sure she could do the most complicated and easily messed up hits. However, under Alan Knars' watch, all of even the most difficult swipes had become like a second nature. "Nice. Can you slash-cut it?" Again Erin nodded. Bates raised his eyebrows and then smiled wickedly. "Can you...Taggler it?"

"Yes!" Erin exclaimed. The Taggler was one of her specialties; in fact it had been the strike that she had used to dismount Narthing more than once during the numerous times they'd played each other. Alan Knars had originally taught the swift backhand-cut to her when she'd been fouled for knocking a Chaser off their broom with an over strike, illegal in most games. "I can do every hit, swipe, knock, stack, or bash in the book! Okay? You can even give me a description of a hit you'd like to see and I'll do it if it's made up or not"

"Excellent." His eyes jerked right above Erin's head. With a sharp spin, Erin smashed the oncoming Bludger away. "She's a sprightly thing," Bates was saying as the rest of the team joined them. Then he swung around in front of them. "Seeing as how I'm not going to be here again..."

"Rumor has it that you're being offered a job as coach," a woman reclining on her broom interrupted. She was the only other woman on the team.

Bates continued as if no one had said anything. "I'll do the talking so the only person that you'll have an opinion of is me." He grinned wolfishly and shrugged. "So," he said, rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm, "I'll start with the introductions."

"Is she really a part of our team yet?" a lanky, dark haired wizard scowled.

"My dear boy, of course she is! _I'm_ the one who decides who my successor is!" The dark wizard was clearly bored. "Okay, we'll start with our other Beater." He motioned to the black woman with short frizzy hair who had spoken up earlier. "Name of Lisa Campbell. Been playing for three years in total, two with us, and is twenty..."

"Do you have to do the collector's card read off?" the woman inquired, not rising from her broom.

"Yes." Lisa shrugged. "She's twenty-two, five foot five, a hundred..."

"And we'll leave it at that," Lisa interrupted, lifting her head marginally off the broom handle to give the old Beater a cold stare.

"Fine. Not necessary." Bates moved on. "Our senior Chaser, Baron Flint. He's not a _real_ baron, mind, just the name." A cheerful man towards the back of the group waved then sank back into the depths. "Been playing for eight years, two here, is thirty-two, and four feet eight."

_Well that explains why I can't see him any more. Man, you wouldn't think they make brooms for his size. Ah, well. I'm sure he's a damn good player to have played eight and still going at thirty-two._ _I'd like to be doing that_._ 'Acourse, thirty-one isn't all that far off._ Erin swept around in a circle and whacked the Bludger that refused to find something else to run into.

Bates had already continued. "Our second Chaser, Eldon Rauros, twenty-one, played for two years all here, six foot one..."

"He's already been taken," Lisa remarked, grinning. Eldon, undeniably one of the better looking there, shot Erin a wily, bright white smile from beneath shaggy golden locks.

Hawthorne Bates sighed impatiently. "Our newest Chaser, here just last year but with six years under his belt, James Day." The well-groomed man nearest to Erin held out a hand for her to shake. Erin hid a surprised smile as she warmly shook the offered hand. He burst out laughing and received several disapproving looks from Bates. "Twenty-four, five eleven."

_This is a young team,_ Erin noticed. _I'm going to be one of the oldest here-I never thought that would happen_. _Heck, no wonder why these guys haven't won any major competitions...they're all just out of grade school_.

"You know our Seeker, Hugo Narthing, I don't suppose I have to tell you much about him." Hugo smiled silkily and Erin rolled her eyes. "And finally, our newest member of the Club. Keeper Cevin Harrow. He takes so much after his uncle." Erin's ears turned up at the mention of 'Harrow'. Sure enough, the dark haired wizard that had spoken earlier bowed his head gracefully. "Hired just three months ago, played for South Africa for two years and was a reserve for the Hong Kong Bullet for one. Six foot eight." Erin measured the sallow man up.

He was a thin man with wavy crow-like hair that ended half way down his back. His striking blond eyebrows sat atop very pallid skin, seeming to almost melt away. Erin had always known that Ode belonged to an infamous group of wizards, but the old Keeper didn't appear to. It wasn't something that he was open about. But this man, Cevin, was weird. Erin had only heard of the witches and wizards, normally belonging to the American Wite, but also to the Australian Harrow, family who happened to be notorious dark wizards, with blond hair and _dark _eyebrows but the opposite? Maybe he was into the trend that Muggles seemed to have caught on to. That was, dying, or bleaching, your hair. _No,_ reconciled Erin, _his uncle, isn't a Muggle sympathizer. I'd eat my shoe if he is any different_.

Erin saw that Harrow's face was extremely angular, and quite gaunt; much more so than his relative, the elder Ode Harrow. His nose resembled more of an eagle's beak than it did any part of the human body. As Cevin Harrow moved his broom to get a better view of Erin, she saw his eyes. They were a startling shade of pale gray, looking almost to be white. He eyed her with a detached air and a hidden sneer.

"Great," Bates finished. "That's over with, why don't I have Campbell take you down to the robe ward?" Lisa Campbell groaned and pulled herself up. "The rest of us should get ready for practice."

"Damn, Bates," James Day remarked pulling along side Narthing, "are you sure you didn't agree to the coaching position? The games don't start for three months, give it a rest."

"And that right there is why you've never beat anyone other than the Alaska Wild," the old Beater lectured. "We should start today; it doesn't matter who the bloody coach is."

Cevin Harrow sighed and summoned the bright red Quaffle. "Who wants to play a game of Bull's Eye?" All the Chasers flocked towards the surly Keeper. "Alright." He thrust the Quaffle at Baron Flint and took off towards the goals at the far side of the pitch.

"Come on," Lisa suggested and tugged at Erin's tee shirt sleeve. "Polla, she's the jersey maker," Lisa added at Erin's look, "only stays around for a few hours a day. Gets paid quite a bit more than she should too." Erin looked back to the Bludger that was furiously diving towards Harrow. "Leave it," Campbell demanded, "and get over here." Obediently, Erin followed.

* * *

Two weeks later Erin sat across from the owner of the Welsh International Club in a large suite littered with posters of former Welsh players and amazing Quidditch players of the day. Erin was glad to see several posters of Ode Harrow, albeit they were smaller than those of Rodriguez Ferdinand, a Seeker from Venezuela. He shifted through a stack of papers and dipped an exquisite eagle quill in an inkwell.

"If you'll just sign here, Miss Langhart," he ordered, offering her the quill and leaning back in his overstuffed chair. "Hawthorne Bates expressed his full confidence that you will be a more than ample replacement. However," the round man leaned forward onto his buxom elbows. "if you do anything as to so much as _touch_ Narthing, I'll have you banned from this Conference as well. Do you understand?" Erin shrugged and then bowed her head. _I'd not be as concerned with me touching Narthing as he getting at me._ Erin sighed. _I won't promise I won't try and at least _hurt_ the man._ She signed the paper and the owner smiled. "Now, how much should I put down for your contract?" he asked, taking back the parchment and tapping his chin with the feather of the quill. "Any ideas?"

"No, sir."

"Well how about four hundred thousand Galleons a year for five?" he suggested, redipping the quill.

"Sir, that's a lot of money for an out of practice Beater who nearly killed a man."

The owner smiled again; his big front teeth sticking out, making him look more like a hamster than anything else. "I'll have you know that I can pay you quite a bit more than that." Erin shook her head. "Have we agreed on five years?"

Erin shrugged, wishing it were more but realizing she wouldn't be able to play that much longer. _Damn, I'm only thirty- one and I feel like an old maid. Oh, shoot them all._ "I'd just have to request that you pay me that much less."

"I will not settle for anything less than three hundred fifty thousand," he decided stubbornly. Erin gave up and nodded. "Good. Four hundred thousand." Quickly, he wrote it down on a blank line.

Erin cried out in exasperation. "I thought we'd settled on three fifty!" she yelled. "Don't waste your damn money on me! Buy a new holiday villa or go on a trip around the world! What the hell would you want to pay me that much for?"

The man was slightly taken aback, but beamed. "You know, Miss Langhart," he began, "you're the first person I've had an argument with about their salary. I daresay you'll be just as amusing on the field." _Yeah, yeah I will. But first I'm donating most of that money to St. Mungo's._


	10. The Darkest Secret

**CHAPTER NINE: The Darkest Secret**

Erin stepped out of her room in the Headquarters of Phoenix and straightened her brand new copper Quidditch robes. She felt a little awkward with the bulky radius and tibia armor and the stiff leather gloves that were required by international Quidditch law. Briskly, she fished her wand out of a pocket and was about to disapparate when Molly Weasley and Tonks appeared from around a bend in the stairs above her.

"Wotcher, Erin!" Tonks cried. "What type of garb is that?" Erin noticed that her spiky hair was now a brilliant shade of red, quite in contrast to Mrs. Weasley's naturally bold hair.

"I'm going to practice," Erin answered, and beginning to wave her wand.

"Oh, awesome!" Tonks exclaimed. "Can I come?"

Molly tutted disapprovingly. "Tonks, you have to go to work in fifteen minutes." She was holding a tea tray laden with used cups and an empty cream pitcher. Tonks rolled her eyes and sighed remorsefully. "I'd do something about your hair. It looks like you walked under a falling can of paint."

"Do you thinks so?" she asked, intrigued.

Erin sniggered. "Either that or you had a run in with a monstrous tin of dead horse." Tonks looked horrified. "Sorry. I mean tomato soup." Tonks gleefully snorted after the clarification. "I'd have to admit that the paint bucket idea is a little more believable."

Tonks screwed up her face momentarily and held her breath. A small pop bumped Molly against the wall and blew Erin's hair out of place. Tonks now donned longer blazing sapphire hair that looked to have been tossed in the wind for several hours. Erin choked back a laugh and gave her the thumbs up. "Nice, strong, radioactive spill look." Molly's eyes widened with exasperation. "Got to fly." Before Mrs. Weasley could say anything to incriminate her, Erin vanished.

"I hope you're not going to keep your hair like that," Molly said, and began to descend down the wooden stairs.

Tonks clumped hastily after her. "Damn, I liked the radioactive idea," Tonks informed Mrs. Weasley. Molly shook her head in disgust. "I'll keep it. I've been on pink for way too long. Even Snape stopped making a hullabaloo about it. That's when you know you've got to go for a change. When the surly Potion Master doesn't notice your hair. I wonder how he'll like this one. Probably shoot me one of those sneers that looks like he's gonna puke." She tilted her head to one side, thinking. "I hope he does sometime. Wouldn't that be grand?"

"You're hopeless, Tonks."

"Go figure."

* * *

"Hey Langhart, watch out for yourself!" A Bludger zoomed unnecessarily close past Erin's ear. Spinning, she streaked after it and unceremoniously shot it towards the dark blue robed reserve player that had the Quaffle.

The morning's practice, which normally ended after Narthing caught the Snitch, had progressed well into the early afternoon. The morning's clouds had dissipated way before hand, leaving the sparkling stadium drenched in unbearable sunlight. Many of the men on the Club team had already lost their shirts to the intense heat, and now their backs were pink with sunburns.

Erin dodged Cevin Harrow as he rose up to make a leisurely save right into her path. With a tightly wound barrel roll, she curved around the middle goal post and beat a Bludger away.

"Sweet over-swipe," Lisa congratulated, gliding next to her. "You're doing really well only three weeks in, you know. You must have been really good in your prime."

"Damn it, kid, I'm still there," Erin muttered, making Lisa laugh insanely. "You wait," Erin continued, joining her comrade, "give me two or three weeks more and it will be like I never stopped playing." Lisa hadn't stopped giggling. "What's so funny?"

"You!" Lisa cried. "You're what, thirty-one, and you talk as though you're only just out to the reserve squad. Thirty one isn't young for a Beater, y'know. I don't know of a good one that made it past thirty five. It's just weird." With a last hiccup, she settled down. She peered at the cloudless sky and wiped her brow. More seriously, she said, "it's hot for sure out here, you know. I don't know what's with the heat, but if one of us is going to keel over and I'm not going to be the one that'll go catch them."

"But I will," came an oily remark from the other side of Erin.

"Buzz off, wanker," Lisa commanded, glancing at Hugo Narthing. He was shirtless, and flaunting the fact in front of Erin. She stared wearily ahead, watching both Bludgers carefully. Lisa spat onto the ground.

"I shouldn't let you make fun of Erin again, Campbell," he remarked loftily. "You'll never find someone as willing to satisfy every man's..."

Erin snarled with controlled rage as she concentrated on the other side of the stadium. "Enough, Narthing," she sniffed, containing her annoyance valiantly .

He raised an eyebrow suavely. "She's from my neck of the woods, you know," he continued, as though Erin hadn't spoken. "Naturally, she knows all sorts of things that would drive a man wild. It's my job to watch after her..." He trailed off as he saw the look on Erin's face change for the worst.

"I said, that will do!" Erin snapped, turning to him, which was obviously what he wanted her to do. "You're a bloody bogan, Narthing, flying around in only your daks trying to crack onto anyone who'll listen? Flipping root rat figjam," Erin muttered. "Don't say another word to me, or Lisa! I can't believe you would do this during a practice!"

Narthing was quite taken aback by Erin's sudden outburst of colorful cursing. He backed up slightly and then recovered. "You can't?" he drawled smoothly.

"Shut up you show pony." Erin rolled her eyes and glanced apologetically at Lisa. The younger woman was watching their interaction mindfully, obviously oblivious to whatever Erin was calling Narthing.

"We're polite today, aren't we," Narthing jeered, leaning closer to Erin.

Erin spat his direction, but failed to aim. "Not really," she said darkly.

"Try and don't let the heat get to you. It riles emotions," Narthing whispered, mouth inches from Erin's ear. She shoved him away with a grimace, almost sending him spinning from his broom.

"Fucking leave me alone!" Erin roared, threatening him with her bat. Narthing eyed it nervously and retreated. "I'll bloody make sure you get sprung by Bates."

Narthing laughed. "Bates works for the manager, and the manager happens to like me. You're the one who'll bloody get ousted."

Lisa chose this time to make her debut. "No she won't," Lisa growled, drifting over to Erin's side as she positioned herself between her friend and Narthing. "She's got the whole team's support."

"What's the team's support when they can all get fired?"

"I'm hacked off with you, Narthing," Lisa shouted; several of the other players turned to glance their direction. "For the last time, naff off, will you?"

Hugo Narthing, instead of answering, chose to ignore Lisa's presence and continue his conversation with Erin. "You don't really mean any of those things, do you, Erin?" he asked, gliding around Lisa and back to Erin's side. "You couldn't bring yourself to knock me off again. Not after you saw what happened last time."

Erin eyed a long white scar across his chest with uneasy eyes. "No, Narthing," she whispered staring him straight in the eyes, though her fingers flexed around the wood of her bat. "I would do it as many times as I could get away with." His grin widened and surprised her. "Damn you," she growled and sped away; she was just in time to save a Bludger aimed at Day's back. Glancing back, she saw that Lisa was now pummeling a Bludger forcefully at a reserve Beater and Narthing was so where to be seen. _That's better_, Erin sighed and rested, letting a rare breeze blow through her hair.

Lisa was right, the heat was insufferable. _I can only imagine this would be like being roasted on a spit,_ dreamed Erin, hazily. She shook her head fiercely, trying to ward off the sleepiness, and watched as droplets of sweat showered off her. _This is brutal_. She shifted her slick bat in her hand. It slipped back to where it had been before.

"So, will you let me catch you when you fall off your broom?" Narthing wondered, drifting next to her out of nowhere and making another stab at conversation.

Erin didn't have enough mental power to discern what her had said. "Whatever," she replied, hoping that she hadn't agreed so something utterly uncouth. The brightly robed figures streaking all around her began to blur as sweat dripped painfully into her eyes. They stung horribly as she rubbed them. Distantly, she heard Narthing laugh.

"Good, because it looks like..." There was a split-second pause and then Narthing whispered, "Oh, shit." Erin looked dazedly around, heard an oddly loud crunch, and slid off her broom as the Bludger Narthing had ducked collided with her nose...

* * *

Erin sat up and yawned. She was lying in a shady section of the arena, propped up against a concrete pillar. Dimly, she picked Lisa's face out of the sea of people wearing bronze and blue robes around her.

"That was a nasty hit you took, kid," came Bates' voice from above her. "Your nose is going to have a funny little crook in it as far as I can tell."

Erin was anything but concerned. "That's great. What are all you doing here?" She looked around at the worried faces with a vacant demeanor. "Shouldn't you be practicing? It's a lovely day out today." Hushed whispered erupted from all sides.

"Yeah, kid, a really bloody _hot_ day. I should never have let you practice out there," Bates mumbled. "I'm lucky one of you didn't die out there." There was a pause as Erin closed her eyes. "Alright all you, she woke up. Now skedaddle quick, or else."

As the tramping of footsteps slowly died away, Erin reopened her eyes. "Lisa, why are you still here?" she asked, watching the woman. "Didn't Bates tell you to get out of here?"

"Yeah."

"Well then?" Erin sighed and eased herself to her feet. "To tell you the truth, I really don't feel as bad as I probably look. Just a little woozy." She took a look around her and laughed at herself. "You know, I'm damn glad you stayed because..." Lisa caught her as she staggered around and Erin smirked. "Say, let's get down to ground level and then I think I'll be a bit better; not as far to fall, you see."

"Right." Lisa let Erin lean on her shoulder as she carefully made her way down one flight of stairs and then around a row of bleachers. Erin walked in to the dimming afternoon sun and slammed into a wall thick of humidity and heat. She could feel herself start to sweat almost immediately. "You really don't look so great, Erin," Lisa noted. "Maybe you should get some ice or something."

"Naw," Erin said pulling her wand from her robe pocket and pointing it at herself.

"What _are_ you doing?"

"Who needs ice?" Erin responded drowsily feeling Lisa cringe beside her as she cleared her throat. "_Ennervate_." Erin's world came into focus and stopped spinning, although the heat was just as intense. "Thanks Lisa for sticking around. I'll see you soon."

"Are you really okay?" her friend asked. "I could follow you to your home or whatever. Make sure you get there okay?"

Erin shook her head stubbornly and held up a hand for peace. "No, I'm sure I'll be quite fine. Everything is much more clear now." Lisa nodded somewhat apprehensively and disappeared with a small 'pop'. Cracking her fingers, Erin trotted across the field to where she spotted her bat and broom, unmoved from where she had originally fallen. As Erin stooped to pick them up, a cold voice echoed from behind her.

"I'm glad that you recovered so quickly; I was impressed at how fast your turn around was. I took a direct hit to the face and didn't come out of it for two days."

Erin twisted around and saw Cevin Harrow briskly stalking towards her, already having changed from his Quidditch robes into billowing black ones. As he drew near, Erin gaped at his height, wondering if even Hagrid was this tall. "Although I will take the liberty to say that your nose will never be the same."

_Take the liberty? Why do people keep using that phrase?_ "Thank you," she mumbled, shaking her thoughts from her head. "It wasn't all that far to fall."

He bowed his head once and Erin took it he agreed. "Of course." He stared back into her eyes. "You must forgive me for being sharp with you earlier. I have sources that warned me about you; Severus isn't so keen about you apparently."

Erin snorted at his description. _No, really? That's saying something, now isn't it?_ "Yeah."

Cevin seemed to understand her amusement. "May I escort you back to," he dropped his already low voice, "You-Know-Where?" Smiling, he swept into a mocking bow. He laughed coldly, something Erin never thought she would live to see happen on a face so similar to Ode's. "I'm going there anyway," he explained.

"How are _you_ in the Order?"

Her response was a punctuated hiss. "Shut up! Don't speak openly like that again!" He bent over and whispered. "Do you realize that _anyone_ could have heard you?" The look of outrage on his face was classic. In a much more relaxed tone he continued. "Don't be slow." Without further waiting for an answer, he whisked his wand through the air and the pair disappeared.

* * *

"Oh you poor dear!" Mrs. Weasley cried the moment Cevin and Erin emerge into the kitchen; she ran over to where Erin stood. "You must sit down." Briskly, she yanked Erin's state of the art broom from her hand and laid it on the table. "Give me your bat." She held her hand out imperiously.

"No."

"You poor thing, you're not feeling at all well. I could tell that from a mile away." Despite Erin's previous rejection, Molly wrenched the slippery bat from Erin's hand and set it beside the broom. "There, you'll fell much better. Just sit. Cevin!" she roared once Erin was seated at the long wooden, kitchen table. Mrs. Weasley turned on the extremely tall man and shook a finger at him menacingly. "You should know better than taking a girl out to lunch and getting her bloodied up!"

"Honestly, Molly!" he growled, having to shout to be heard over Mrs. Weasley's racket. "I did nothing of the sort! She and I were at Quidditch together so we just came _back_ together. She got beat in the face with a Bludger. That's what Beaters do," he finished, saying each word very slowly.

Mrs. Weasley's anger deflated quickly. "Oh."

Cevin nodded sharply, knowing he had been received. "Right then, I'm going to go see what Severus is doing," he sighed and made his way over to the door that led to the huge staircase. "When will supper be?"

"I'd say two hours," Mrs. Weasley answered, not taking her eyes off Erin. Cevin faded through the doorway and Molly now shook her finger at Erin. "You should be more careful when you play Quidditch," she reprimanded.

"I know."

Molly was unsatisfied. "And you mustn't play in the heat like that again." Erin watched the motherly witch and nodded. "Good. Now, how would you like a bowl of soup?"

"I can wait for dinner," Erin said, rising from the table and scooting her chair back under. "I'm not all that hungry." Erin thanked the witch once more and then made her way up the daunting staircase and to her room. Once inside, she flopped down on the bed and was asleep before she was even able to take off her shoes.


	11. Summer Holidays

**CHAPTER TEN: Summer Holidays**

There was a change of temperaments as May sneaked around into mid June. The days grew longer, and hotter, and Quidditch practice became increasingly more of a dedication. Bates, who had officially accepted the position as the head coach for the Welsh Club until a replacement could be found, was working his players so hard that often when they retired for the day they were all too tired to lift their own broom. Such were the times, and with a critical game nearing them every day, Erin knew that despite how abhorring the practices seemed they would help in the end.

The tightened Quidditch schedule did more than just keep Erin so tired she could barely sit through one of Mrs. Weasley's fabulous dinners without nodding off half way through. They kept her social life at a minimum, which wasn't the worst of things in Erin's opinion. She saw little of Severus Snape, not that she cared to see him at _all_, and more rarely that of Remus Lupin. Tonks was sighted more often than not at the dinner table, faithfully prodding Erin awake every time she seemed about to drift off.

The coming of June brought around unexpected surprises, less physical, most were enjoyable nonetheless. However, one night, as Erin tramped in from Quidditch practice late and very beat, she noticed the kitchen was full of people she didn't recognize. She sidled through the kitchen doors, around the perimeter of the room, and was about to escape up the stairs to her room, but the sentence of conversation she caught stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Remus, I'm so sorry for your loss. The attack on the Ministry was so sudden and..."

Lupin cut the man talking to him off. "Yes," came his gruff response. "We weren't prepared. If Severus hadn't warned us, Harry wouldn't have lived."

Erin's brow furrowed as she turned around to see an elegantly dressed wizard patting Lupin on the back. Lupin's back was towards her. Erin looked around the rest of the room and saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sitting at the kitchen table quietly staring into the distance as if they'd lost something. A handful of other wizards were doing the same.

"We have six patrols of aurors scouting the area, trying to find the location of You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters," the man continued, taking a step away from Lupin. Erin watched the pair closely.

"Is Fudge..."

The man seemed to know Lupin's question before Lupin got around to asking it. "No. But there was an attack on a Muggle building; we used the opportunity to our advantage." Erin saw Lupin nod slowly as his shoulder shook slightly. The man apparently noticed Lupin's quaking shoulders as well. "Ah, Remus, I'm so sorry," he sighed, wringing his hands. "I wish I had been there, but then, I doubt there was anyone who could have saved Sirius."

Erin suddenly understood everything. The attack on the Ministry, Harry almost dying, Severus warning the Order...In the process, Sirius Black must have died. Although she'd hardly interacted with the mysterious wizard, Erin was hit with a sudden wave of sorrow. She had only greeted Sirius occasionally, but when she had he had always courteous and grateful. Now, the man was gone. Not wanting to hear more, already knowing she'd heard enough, Erin slipped up the stairs to her room and away from the mourners.

* * *

Late that week, Hogwarts officially adjourned for the summer, leaving the two remaining Weasleys attending the school free to roam their house and see how much destruction they could make in the first week. The only difference it caused at the Order was a severe decline of the population; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley returned to the Burrow.

But the first week crept by, slower than Erin expected it to. But as the third week got under sway, the pace picked up. Ron, Harry, and Ginny, along with their parents, returned to the Order and the place suddenly seemed much more lively. Indeed, Erin's first encounter with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley justified her thinking to perfection.

Erin appeared in the kitchen from Quidditch practice, worn and dead on her feet. She wanted nothing more than to slip quietly upstairs, change into more comfortable robes, and fall asleep without a hind look. As she brushed the dripping sweat from her face, Erin began to troop up the kitchen stairs that led to her room with her bat under her arm and her broom across her shoulders.

She deposited her equipment in the trunk at the foot of her bed and ripped off the insanely hot guards around her shins and arms. The room was a great deal cooler once they were off and locked up in the trunk. She stripped her stifling Quidditch robes, the navy blue padded breeches, and pulled on a plain white tee shirt with baggy, black warm-up pants. She was about to gratefully fall into bed until she heard a small 'pop' and a hushed, although loud, conversation.

"Ron! What did you do now?" a harassed voice asked in annoyance and was followed by a yelp of unpleasant surprise.

"Dunno, Harry. They kind of blew up on me, that's all." There was a pause. "Reckon we ought to clean up the ashes, huh. Shut up, Pig!"

There was a sigh of exasperation as their feet shuffled around the room. "I can't believe that you blew up..."

"I didn't," came a soft reply.

"...our tickets to the game versus Germany." Erin moved closer to her own door and cocked her head to one side, listening carefully. "You _just_ got done telling me how great it was that Fred and George gave them to us. And now, they're these little gray..."

"Ah, shut up, Harry." Erin opened her door silently and saw that the door to the room across the hall from hers was open. She had never yet seen the inside of the room.

The two boys, Harry and Ron, were crouched in the center of the room diligently brushing the chard remains of something into their hands. Two beds, littered with trunks newly unpacked, were decorated in the colors of gold and red. An owl similar to a softball whizzed around the room as a snowy owl, of normal size, watched with mild interest. Erin raised her eyebrows and smiled, despite how tired she was.

"There, that's it," Ron said, standing and dumping the soot in his hand into a waste can. Harry swept up the last flakes and also deposited them after Ron. "It's too bad really." Ron turned around and saw Erin watching them. His eyes grew wide with recognition. "You're that one!" Erin grinned and Harry kicked Ron.

"We met you before at Hogsmead. You were there with Professor Lupin," Harry clarified, glaring at Ron. Erin nodded. Harry shrugged. "I didn't know you were in the Order."

"Well I wasn't then," Erin explained, massaging her stiff fingers.

"Hmmm."

"Who was going to play Germany?" Erin asked, curious. "Assuming you were talking about Quidditch."

Ron nodded and coughed. "We were going to go see Germany play Ireland in Cork, but," Ron trailed off and pursed his lips, trying to look innocent.

"But Ron here blew them up," Harry finished and jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the trash can behind him.

Erin laughed. "I heard." She leaned casually against her door jam watched as the two boys sat down on one bed. "Why are you here, exactly."

"Mum and Dad are in the Order," Ron said automatically. "Harry is too. School just let out earlier this morning."

"Which year did you just finish?"

"Our fifth," Harry said promptly, and he looked proud.

"It was bloody harder than the first, second, third, or fourth," Ron added darkly. "I'm just glad that I didn't have to take anymore potions." He shivered and Erin knew why. That was exactly what the surly potion's master, Professor Severus Snape, taught. In Erin's opinion, the world had the right to hate that man.

"Nice. I guess I'll see you at dinner then." Erin smirked, stepped back into her room, and then shut her door. _Actually, as tired as I am, I don't think I'm going to see anyone until mid morning tomorrow._ She was asleep before she actually lay down.

Tonks came in about half an hour later and poked Erin awake. Erin sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes. Tonks beamed as Erin yawned.

"Wotcher, Erin," she greeted and sat down hard on Erin's bed, bouncing Erin. Erin groaned sleepily as Tonks giggled.

"So," Erin yawned, propping herself up on her elbow and watching Tonks carefully. Tonks had been injured the night Sirius was killed and had only just got back from St. Mungo's. She looked better. "You're okay then?" Tonks nodded. "Good. Mungo's isn't all that bad, eh?"

Tonks made a face. "It's not a place to spend a holiday," she muttered.

Erin had to agree. "Yeah," she sighed, "I 'suppose." Her eyes drifted closed as she fought of fatigue. Tonks loyally tapped her awake. "Right" Erin continued, rubbing her eyes and staring around the room. "What'd you come up here for, then?"

"Molly wants you to come down to dinner," Tonks explained. "Everyone's here. We've got the normal: Lupin, you, me, and Arthur, plus all the kids, Kingsley, and Mundungus. You've met him before." Erin nodded and rolled out of bed. "Come on."

"I should change, Tonks," Erin decided and walked over to her trunk. "But I really don't want to."

Tonks was still sitting on her bed. She stood up with a calculating look. "Well then don't," she said simply. "You really don't need to. It's not that anyone will really care all that much. Molly might, but what _doesn't_ she care about, huh?" Erin shook her head and shuffled through her clothes, finally deciding to slip on a black robe over her regular clothes. Tonks sighed again and opened her door. "Molly didn't really want to be kept waiting." Erin followed her down the dimly lit staircase and quickly pulled her hair into a ponytail.

That night around the dinner table Erin, Tonks, and Lupin sat with the students recently out of school. They told them about their adventures, the Quidditch games, the subjects they were taking next year, and Ginny was especially keen on telling them all she was going to be a professional Seeker when she graduated from Hogwarts. Erin laughed inwardly at the thought, knowing full well that it wasn't as easy as just deciding you were going to be one. The talk of Quidditch prompted Erin into thought about her team.

"What do you say if I let you all come watch one of my games?" she asked when the conversation came to a low point. Neither Harry, Ron, nor Ginny knew, it seemed, that she was even on a Quidditch team. They all balked in amazement.

"Which team do you play for?" Ron asked immediately.

"The Welsh Club," Erin answered, knowing it wasn't as impressive as some other teams. "We're going to play America in three weeks or so, and we've got a scrimmage game versus Normandy in a few days. I could let a few of you in to watch, mate's rate you know."

"You play for Wales?" Ron asked, completely astounded. "What position, Chaser?"

Erin laughed. "No, I'm no Chaser. I'm one of the Beaters." The older Weasley twins, who Erin had seen several times before, stared in amazement. "I've never played any other position."

"We'd love to come," Harry said. He turned to Ron. "Do you think that Hermione would want to come as well? I don't know when she gets back from that trip her family took to America."

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. If she's not back in a couple of days, I don't think that she'd mind all that much."

"Right." Erin looked around the table. Cevin Harrow was talking quietly to Mundungus Fletcher and had apparently not heard any of the rest of the conversation. Tonks was grinning broadly as she watched the rest of the crowd and absentmindedly stabbed runaway peas on her plate with her butter knife.

"So," Erin began again, "the game's on Wednesday at seven at night. It wouldn't be that hard to find you all good seats in the stadium, seeing how only friends of the players are invited. Say you meet me in Cardiff sometime before the game, like five thirty, and I show you where to get off to?" Molly and Arthur Weasley looked at each other for a second and then nodded.

"Alright," Molly agreed. "We can work out the details later."

"Okay." Erin looked around the table. "Who of you would come?" Almost all the hands around the table rose. Erin smirked. "Alright then. Party at Belton in three days."

* * *

The game was better than was expected by any one on the Welsh team. Their score almost tripled the Norman's, but the Normandy team was almost all new due to player retirements and injuries. Erin's crowd enjoyed themselves no end. When they finally all trouped home to the Headquarters, Erin was sure she heard Ron swear that the Welsh team was so good they would make it to the World Cup without a second glance.

The next morning, Erin sat down at the kitchen table with a large mug of tea in hand and was surprised to find a small party of people already present there. Lupin was the first to see her trump down the stairs slowly and halt in her tracks as she saw the group. He smiled and bowed his head in greeting.

"Hello, Erin," he greeted and the rest of the groups' heads all swiveled to where Erin stood. Ron and Harry gave her the thumbs up and Tonks, who's hair was now an ugly shade of army green, clapped silently. "We were just waiting for you to come downstairs."

Erin sipped her tea nervously before she responded. "Right," she said in disbelief. "Long time no see, Lupin. What have you been up to?"

Lupin looked uncomfortable for a second and then shrugged. "I've been very busy lately," he finally replied without looking at her.

"Hmmm..." Erin itched her chin and glanced over at the rest of the group, blinking sleepily. "Say, what are all you waiting for me for?" she asked after taking another sip of her tea.

"We're gonna go meet Hermione at Diagon Alley," Ron explained, and motioned to a pot of floo powder that he was holding. "She just got back today." He paused for a second. "You were ruddy brilliant yesterday, Erin. That was a top notch game."

Tonks nodded enthusiastically. "The way you did that one dive and spun as you popped the Bludger away from Harrow..." Tonks sighed. "It was bonzer."

Erin smiled at the Australian slang but shook her head. "It wasn't a very good game. I wish you could have seen a better one." No one seemed to believe her. "Seriously, I feel bad about it. You should come watch a real game versus America." Ron looked like he was about to faint. "It'll be in a few weeks; it should be much more worth it."

"Do you mean it?" Harry asked slowly. "Can we actually _go_ to America to see the game?"

Erin shrugged. "I don't see why not," she answered. "You're just going to have to get Molly to let you go. Bates really enjoyed all of you at the last game."

Lupin, who had been standing behind Erin this whole time, finally cut into the conversation. "We're going to need to leave now, if we want to pick Hermione up at ten o'clock." Ron thrust the pot of floo powder at Tonks.

The small witch snatched up a large handful, walked over to the fireplace and threw it down once she was inside. "Diagon Alley!" she commanded and was enveloped in bright green flames before disappearing from the grate.

"Good," Lupin whispered. "Erin, you next."

Erin stepped up to Ron and grabbed a handful of the grainy powder. "You know," she told the rest of the people present, "I really hate traveling this way." Lupin laughed as she cast the fine sand into the fire bottom. "Diagon Alley!"

Erin landed in a tall fireplace covered with soot and ashes. "Bloody hell," she whispered to herself as she dusted herself off and stepped from the grate.

Tonks rushed up to her. "Hey."

"Hi." Erin took a sip of her tea, which miraculously had remained dirt free throughout the entire chimney flight. "S'pose we just wait for the rest of them to come..." Erin jumped back as Harry landed at the bottom of the fireplace in a heap. The boy stood up, brushed himself off, and walked over to where Tonks and Erin were waiting. Erin looked around the room she was in. "Where _are_ we?"

"Flourish and Blotts," Harry answered promptly.

"Some kind of book store, I guess," Erin finished, scanning the room. It was stacked to the ceiling with books in various states of repair, sizes, and colors. "Don't you think they could straighten stuff out a bit." She saw a pile of books that looked like it was about to fall on the next passerby. Ron appeared in the fireplace and stepped out as he shook out his robes.

"They're magical," Tonks explained. "They stay up even if you shove on it hard. Watch." Tonks walked over to the pile at Erin had been looking at and looked up at it.

Erin bolted over and stopped her hand just in time. "I'll take your word on it, thanks," she gritted. "That pile looks like it will heave ho if you blow on it."

Tonks shook her head studiously. "No you don't understand. It _won't_ fall over."

Erin pursed her lips and shrugged. "Either way, I don't want to take the risks." Lupin had joined them.

"Hermione should be in here somewhere, right, Harry?" Ron answered instead.

Harry shrugged and stared around the bookstore, as if hoping to catch sight of his friend. "She was going to be either here or outside the ice cream parlor."

"Why don't you two go look for her over there, and come back straight away," Lupin offered. Harry nodded and he and Ron took off through the store. Lupin, Tonks, and Erin stood in uncomfortable silence as they watched the two boys wander off.

Finally, Tonks coughed. "Still, Erin, you mustn't beat yourself up about that game last night. It _was_ brilliant, no matter what you say."

Erin shrugged and snorted when she heard Lupin sigh. "What?" she asked. "Are you going to tell me that the game was..." Erin stopped mid sentence. "Hang on...Where _were_ you?" Her brow furrowed. "I didn't see you."

Lupin watched his feet for a moment. "That was because I wasn't there," he explained after a pause. "I was...busy."

"Okay," Erin submitted with a quick glance at Tonks, "but you're sure busy a lot. I don't even see you at dinner anymore."

Tonks cut in. "Yeah, it's like you're avoiding someone or something." She looked past Erin and grinned. "They're coming back. Hermione's with them."

Lupin nodded and sighed again. "Would you mind taking them back to the Headquarters, Tonks?" he asked quickly. "Erin needs to get a new wand at Olivander's."

Erin shot him a curious glance. "I do?"

"Yes." Lupin gave Erin a hard stare that clearly was meant to mean: _Don't you dare refuse_.

Tonks nodded, somewhat downcast, and smiled again as the three Hogwarts students stopped alongside the group. "Come along, gang," she said and fished out a small packet of floo powder from her jeans. "We'll get going here, as long as none of you've got anything to buy?" Harry, Hermione, and Ron all shook their heads. "Great." She didn't look like she thought it was great. "Ron, you first."

"We'd better get going, then," Lupin decided and turned to go.

"See you later, Tonks," Erin called over her shoulder as Lupin herded her away. Tonks waved and then helped Harry to her floo supply.

Once outside the bookstore, Erin stopped Lupin and looked at him darkly. "What?" he asked, as though he thought something was very funny. "What's wrong?"

Erin folded her arms across her chest and tried her best to look mad. For some reason, it was extremely hard. "_Why_ do I need a new wand?" she inquired harshly.

Lupin laughed out loud. "Why wouldn't you need a new one?" He smirked again. "I don't like it when you use it, even if it's not around me. Something could happen." He smiled meekly. "It's a safety issue."

"Safety issue?" Erin snorted, refusing to admit he was right. "Fine, where is this shop?" Lupin pointed down the crowded street and shrugged. "Okay. What's that great big building?" Erin asked as they began to walk. "The white one? Damn," she muttered to herself, but Lupin heard, "it looks like the whole place is going to fall over!"

"That Gringotts, the bank." Lupin pointed at a store they were passing, "There's Fred and George's shop. And the one next to it is the cauldron shop. The Apothecary is that red building over there...That's where Severus gets some of his ingredients; they'll import things specially for him from anywhere in the world." Erin spun in circles, trying to keep up with his tour. "That over there is Eeylops Owl Emporium. And the Quidditch shop next to it."

Erin stopped in her tracks. "Ohh, lets go into that one, shall we?" she pleaded.

Lupin grinned. "After Olivander's, what do you say?" Erin groaned and Lupin continued. "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. She makes some very useful items besides robes, mind. And here it is, Olivander's." Erin looked up at the bleak black door and frowned. "Not much on the outside is it?" he asked when he saw her face. "But wait until you see what's inside." Lupin held the door open for her and followed as she stepped into the dusty room.

They were greeted by a wispy looking old man who seemed like he would disappear off the face of the earth if they didn't keep their eyes tuned to him. "Hello," he whispered. "And who are you?" Erin wanted to take a quick step and hide behind Lupin, but didn't. "I don't ever recall seeing you before."

"I'm Erin Langhart, sir," she said meekly. _Damn this guy's creepy._

"I see. You'll be wanting a what?"

Erin decided it would be best to hide she wasn't impressed. _Ask me what I want? You're a blery wand maker, for crying out loud. D'you think I was here about the slippers you sell?_

"A wand," Lupin explained. Erin fished out her wand from her pocket and offered it to Olivander.

The older man sniffed disapprovingly. "I see," he breathed. "Whose wand was this originally?"

"My mother's" Erin answered automatically.

Mr. Olivander looked up in surprise. "Normally when I see a wand like this is came from an opponent that died in the course of a battle. Was this how you came across this wand?" His tone was darker, more frightened.

"No." Erin sighed. "My mum was killed, though. She died and I got her wand."

Mr. Olivander looked from her to her wand and back again. "I see. Well, let me look and see if I can find anything like it." He shuffled off down one long, thin corridor stuffed with pencil thin boxes. "Does it do anything odd when you cast spells?" Lupin snorted and shook his head.

"Yeah," Erin responded, grinning as she glanced over at Lupin. "It sort of does really random things; like stuff I don't expect." Lupin rolled his eyes.

Mr. Olivander nodded knowledgeably and pulled out a box from one of the shelves. "Try this one," he said as he shambled over and slid the top off. "Oak and phoenix tail feather. Eight inches." He handed the wand to her and Erin flicked it cautiously. A vase of dead flowers exploded into fire.

"That _is _an improvement from my wand," Erin said brightly. Mr. Olivander snatched the wand back. "Or not." Mr. Olivander placed the wand onto his desk at the center of the room and disappeared into another row of shelves.

"You know," Lupin leaned over and whispered in her ear, "you could be more cooperative."

Erin looked up at him, confused. "I thought it _was_ a good wand," she muttered darkly. "I don't see why we had to come here. I was getting along just fine." Lupin shook his head in amusement.

Mr. Olivander walked into view, his arms laden with five black boxes. "Miss Langhart," he began and pulled another wand from its box, "Willow and phoenix. Ten inches." Erin took the offered wand and, with a dark glance at Lupin, waved it. A jet of water smothered the flower inferno and blasted the ashes across the room. "We're getting close," Mr. Olivander whispered, took the wand, and stuffed a new one back into Erin's hand. "Sassafras with unicorn hair. Nine inches." Erin gave the pale wand a jerk and a fountain of wine splashed over the floor. Mr. Olivander was nearly bouncing on his heals with anticipation. "Here," he offered and gave her another wand. "Ebony and dragon heartstring. Fourteen inches." The wand was unusually long. Erin's fingers prickled slightly as she raised the wand and showered the room with dark green sparks. "Excellent!" Mr. Olivander cried as he grabbed the black wand and wrapped it in its box. "Very interesting indeed." He handed the box to Erin, who looked at it dubiously. "I'm amazed that you were able to even use your mother's wand, since this was the wand that chose you. I couldn't imagine a wand more different." Erin shrugged and paid the nine Galleons for her wand. "Would you like your old wand?"

Erin eyed her old wand sadly. "No, you keep it," she whispered and left the shop.

"Why didn't you want your wand?" Lupin asked as they were headed back to the Quidditch shop.

Erin scowled. "It's just one more thing that connects me with my family, and that life I used to know. One more thing that reminds me of a place I can't go back to." She sneezed suddenly. "I don't want to remember any more than what I have to."

"Ah, you're not still on about that, are you?" Erin nodded and Lupin sighed. "Well, let's see the wand then." Erin opened the thin box and fumbled to get the wand out. She handed it to Lupin silently. "It's nice." He gave it back to her and Erin slid it into her pocket.

"Yeah, but it's bloody long." She sighed and twisted her fingers around the slick black wood. "It hardly fits in my robe pocket."


	12. The Defeat

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Defeat**

Erin held her broomstick tightly in her sweaty left hand as she and the rest of the Welsh International Club starters filed into their sleek planning room. Hawthorne Bates was already seated beside a magical whiteboard, swept clean, his wand in hand and his feet propped up on the rungs of his bar stool style seat. He nodded once to Erin, as if he could sense her tense nervousness, and waited for the sullen team to be seated. He began talking in his gruff, simple-minded way. He told things as they came, and appeared, to him. It wasn't grand, but he made his points clear.

"See here, gang, we're playing on their turf. It's all a bunch of Yanks out there, right? Nothing more, not a thing less. You can't let their jabber get to you, got it? That's first and foremost. You've got to stay a team, throughout the whole ordeal. If you get it in your heads that all their famous names and outrageous pay will oust you, leave packing now. Who cares that yer all a bunch of nobodies? Not I." He gave Erin and Narthing an apologetic glance before continuing. "I've seen y'all in practice; you could smack their guts out any crevice open to the air."

Lisa cringed. "Spare us the gore, sir," she hissed. "Tell you the truth, I'm not all hands up for beating the other team into a pulp. Sorry, but I'm not going to."

Bates was anything but pleased with her interruption. "Bloody pansy." He began to mutter darkly. "That's the frame of mind that will lose us this game!" he roared, brandishing his finger like a loose fish out of water. "They're set to knock you off your seats! Send us home embarrassed and bloody. Why not make them see what you're made of? Unless that's all that graces me right now." His unshaven face glowered. "If you lose now, what type of record can you keep?" The bronzed clad people surrounding him were silent. He scanned their grim faces with his grizzled one. No muscle moved, no finger twitched. It was as if Hawthorne Bates was daring someone so say something, anything. Finally, Baron Flint coughed meekly.

Bates remembered himself and continued. "I've no game plan for your lot. The only strength you have now is your ability, your minds, and your resolve. No amount of brains, my brains least, will help see you through the day and night. Keep your fervor strong through the tirades and the scorn." Again, he paused to listen to the sweet silence of comprehension. He glanced at the clock. "You'd best get to the box, lot. Go and whip up some Yankees." The team stood in unison and filed out.

"Thanks, coach," Erin whispered and squeezed his shoulder in anticipation. "I've not heard a better song sung yet."

The old Beater held her back. "Listen, Langhart, you're tough stuff kid." His eyes sparkled. "Don't let them get at you. You're the reason this team has any hope left in its core. Don't let the hope slip so far away we won't be able to fish it back. If you lose track of it now we're done. Let it guide you, don't guide it." Erin's eye's drifted off. Bates shook her shoulder roughly. "Erin, you can't let it go! No matter what!"

"Yes, sir." Erin met the eyes; those eyes filled with a haunting yearning for a new age and a new leader. "They will not beat me down, sir. I'm an Aussie. If you ever meet an Aussie that's not bent on fighting for the last breath, tell me. They're probably not true blues." The grizzled man let her go. "I'll see you at the celebration." She smiled, the butterflies invading her stomach had returned. "Good bye."

"And good luck."

Erin didn't remember much of the walk to the starting box. She only vaguely remembered Lisa patting her on the back and telling her everything was going to go as smoothly as a practice. _I'll kiss a frog if that's how it turns out_, thought Erin. _Now maybe a midday practice...That I could see_.

The box creaked open as Erin mounted her broom and shifted her bat into her right hand. _Here goes squat_. A jolt of cold, humid air rushed towards and around the Welsh team. A great sigh of relief was communal as the sea air and the heavy clouds greeted their shining bronze robes. It wasn't that different from their home stadium, but it was different enough. The crowds were one thing.

The Welsh stadium never had that many spectators. Not that the entire of the British Isles didn't adore the Welsh Club Team, but the home games were just not popular among those who had the option to come. Their stadium seated eight thousand, not a grand boast, and the max number that had ever arrived at one game was just over three. But here in America, here it was different. The spectators were a sea of red, white, or blue robes, polkadoted in more that a random pattern. Splotches of white, then some of blue, swam through the foggy air.

A foreign accent cut through the air. Erin heard nothing of it. Her mind was still alight and kindled with Bates' words. The whoops and hollers meant nothing to her as she tried to maneuver around the star spangled American players. Her silence was her only consolation, but her heart was racing. It had been too long since she had felt the adrenaline rush through her veins like it was now. Far too long.

The game started slowly and sped up cautiously. It was much more clear the American Eastern Team thought the Club little more than unwanted Drooble's chewing gum on the bottom of their shoes. They dove and rolled through the air, passing the Quaffle as soon as it had entered their hands. The Beaters were obsessive about their jobs and, to Erin's utmost dismay, both male. The Seeker, what Erin was able to see of him as he drifted lazily past her, was more interested in the concession stand than the actual game. Obviously, this was a game they thought their mere presence would win.

"How are you faring?" Narthing asked as he slid up beside Erin. He was worried. "Is everything alright? You've been hovering there for five minutes."

"Have I?" Erin inquired, aghast. "I didn't mean to. I was just thinking." She stopped stuttering long enough to notice something was missing about Narthing's normal behavior. "How long into the game are we?"

"Four periods," he answered automatically. "The score's seventy to forty, them. We're holding out well enough," he reported. "Harrow's nearly a bull with craze. I've not seen him this mad and damned if I ever do again." Narthing smiled, and sniffed the cool breeze as it whipped past him. "I think we're going to give these Yankees a real run for their dough." Erin snorted, not really paying attention to what he was saying. "I should go...and catch that Snitch." He pointed to where the Snitch was hovering by a player's shoe.

Erin glanced over and felt the butterflies in her stomach all over again. "That'd be right."

"Yup," he agreed, and thought about the idea for a few more seconds. "Right, then. Do you think I should give the little bugger a head start?"

Erin shook her head. "He's already got one." The sea air was making her giddy, that and the fact that Narthing was actually acting like a person, not her personal stalker.

"A good point." Narthing drifted inconspicuously toward the other player.

Erin watched him edge closer to the Snitch. "Hey, Narthing!" she said as loud as she dared. He gave her a brief half-turn and waited. "Thanks for being normal."

A grin, not so far off those she was most used to seeing, appeared on his face. "Only for the game, Erin. Only then and not longer." He was mimicking Bates' speech. "The party afterwards will be most fun, don't you agree?" He turned back around to move up to the Snitch. It was gone. "Oh...Merlin!"

"Bug off!" Erin sighed at his complete absolute ability to turn himself into a jerk in less than five seconds. Narthing gave her a cheery wave and sped into the mist. _Damned if he comes so much as an inch near me at the party_. She laughed inwardly at herself. _If there is one_.

A Bludger was harassing Harrow near the Welsh team's goal posts. He looked as though he could have blown the wriggling ball up quite happily and gone about the rest of his business as normal. Grinning, Erin bolted down to intervene before the surly man did so.

"Took you long enough," he hissed as he swooped up to make a save.

"Sorry, alright?" Erin said, lingering momentarily to watch Harrow toss the Quaffle to Day. It was not a good move. Day turned around and sped off towards the other goals alone. "Bloody inept Chaser," Erin whispered and Cevin smiled.

"Aren't you going to do something about it?" Erin shrugged before speeding off, trying to figure out where Day had lost the Quaffle. "Chasers at twelve," she called over her shoulder. Fixing her bat hand, she barrel-rolled around the approaching wing of American Chasers and directed the next Bludger she encountered at the loosely held Quaffle. Flint recovered the falling red ball beautifully and sped off with Rauros in tail.

"Out of my way!" Narthing roared as he neatly dove under Erin and zoomed off, obviously in pursuit, or escape, of something. Erin readied her bat and scanned the area for a Bludger. She spotted Lisa rocketing the only two Bludgers on the field away from Flint and Rauros with a flurry of mad movements. Narthing was onto the Snitch. The butterflies attacked again as she sped after him, bat at her side, and cut off the American Seeker as the man tried to catch up to Narthing. The man's Firebolt, although it looked to be in excellent condition, was no match for Erin's state of the art broom. Cursing, he tried to go into a very steep dive, and Erin met him as he pulled out.

"Fucking lobster," she heard him mutter and grinned, slightly confused.

_Are you calling me a lobster because that's not a good food or a reference to the American Revolution? Probably the latter. Ah well, he doesn't know any better. Can't complain_.

"I'm no lobsterback," she decided to inform him. _Keeps them smart_. "I'm an Aussie." The man appeared to have already guessed this by her accent. "It doesn't do so well if you confuse the two of us. Baaaad things happen to those fools." The man rolled his eyes and tried another escape. Erin felt mildly sorry for him when she noticed he stopped trying. "It's too late, isn't it?" He pulled away and into the clouds.

Indeed, the whole stadium was silent. The commentary proved Erin's suspicions correct. Narthing rose up in the air, Snitch in hand, as his team flocked to him. Erin approached the mob slowly.

"We won, Erin!" Narthing yelled at the top of his lungs so the world could hear. "We did it!" Erin nodded and gave him the thumbs up. It seemed appropriate. "What a party we're going to have!"

"Bonzer, mate."

"Great stuff, kid." Bates was hovering next to her in the air. "You kept us together." His gray hair glistened in the moist air.

"Yeah?" Erin asked. "By doing what? Sitting in the same place for five minutes? That sure helped the general cause."

Bates shrugged. "You did, kid. That's that." Erin didn't feel like arguing with him any longer. It would be bound to be like an argument with Lupin. She never had won one yet, but she tried. Bates took a deep breath. "That's the smell of victory. And what a smell it is." It began to drizzle slowly, as if the sky wasn't decided it if wanted to rain or not.

Erin smirked. "And that," she said impishly, "is the feeling." The old Beater laughed. "See you at the party, coach. I told you there would be one, didn't I. The Leaky Cauldron; you know where that is?"

Bates nodded. "I expect you would have had a party even if you hadn't won." Erin nodded. "Well it just goes to show the spirit you've got inside."

"And it bloody goes to show how metaphorical you are."

* * *

"We would have started to sing the Conquering Hero when you came in the door," Tonks explained as Erin stepped through the weather beaten door of the Leaky Cauldron and out of the pouring rain. "The only problem with that was none of us knew any other verses than the chorus. Bit lame after a minute or so; we already tried it out for Narthing." Erin grinned and hung her coat up on the wall. "Lupin wants to talk to you, see. He's under the impression, and I've not been able to convince him otherwise, that the American air is bad for the mind." She huffed. "Sort of a weird thought, isn't it?"

"Sure enough," Erin agreed and began to wind her way down a dark hall that led to the main common room. "But he's okay, right? I mean, it'd be sort of lame for him to get all worked up about something that's not even true. The air's fine over there; might be a tad denser."

"I'm afraid that his head's getting denser, for some reason." Tonks had to jog to keep up with Erin's pace. "I _told_ him he was bloody mental, but then he turns on me and says that _I_ am! Can you believe it?"

Erin didn't even hesitate before she answered. "Yes. You _are_ mental." Erin halted in her tracks before she opened the door that separated her from the party. "Who's there?"

Tonks considered this somewhat carefully. "A whole bunch of people that I don't really know." She tapped her chin uncertainly. "There's Lupin, well duh, and Kingsley, the Weasleys...Oh, yeah. Dumbledore dropped by and had a cup of tea, but he left a few minutes ago. He was awfully sad to have missed you. You're team is all here; well, either that or there are some real phonies dressed up in the Welsh robes. Can't be too sure, can you?" Erin smiled and opened the door.

The Leaky Cauldron was stuffed with the partygoers; for a moment, Erin felt extremely sorry for Tom, the barkeeper, but shrugged it off quickly. The room was ablaze with light from all of its three fireplaces. Hermione and Ginny were roasting marshmallows on the fire pokers and Ron was trying to convince them to, it appeared via his hand movements, blow something up. Hermione was not at all pleased. Erin snorted to see her shake her head and pop a marshmallow into her mouth. The great table in the center of the room was divided into those who were on the Welsh Club's team and those who weren't.

"Over here!" Lisa called from the 'team' side and slid out a chair between her and Bates. "We've been expecting you for a long time!" Erin smiled, a tad embarrassed, and made her way through the standing crowds of the regular Leaky Cauldron customers, pausing to thank those who congratulated her. "What took you so?"

"Ah, I dunno," Erin said as she sat down. "The weather was something fierce, and well...I'm here now, that's the point." She tapped her fingers nervously on the table.

"That's the spirit, kid," Bates agreed. "Live through hell and the hell don' matter." Erin eyed him carefully and worriedly glanced to Lisa. She was laughing.

"He's trying to beat me in a beer race," Baron Flint explained, gulping from his own large pint. He burped politely and grinned. "He's not winning, can you tell?"

"Damn's not true!" Bates roared and the whole room went momentarily quite, then resumed its warm noise. "Hee's oney on three, and I'm on three an a have." Erin bit her lip and Flint leaned in, face red and eyes watering.

"He's not an expert, he's not. Gotta take them slow." He jabbed a thumb at Hugo Narthing, who was delighted at Bates' predicament. "He backed out after one and a half. Poor kid. He's not got the stuff to go very far in this realm. A tad tipsy already." Hugo Narthing grinned. _He's not _that_ far off from normal, you know._

After Bates passed out and was carried by Rauros and Harrow up to a room on the second floor, Erin felt the need to spend some time with her more _predictable_ friends and scooted down to the other end of the table. Talk was not much different, but here Erin felt at home.

Of course, with the brilliant defeat of the American Eastern Team still a vivid memory, their conversations consisted purely of old games and amazing players, like Ode Harrow for example. Fred and George told the story of their escape from Umbridge, which was still as popular as it had ever been. Erin laughed with the rest of them. When Charlie Weasley asked about her Quidditch past, Erin told them all of it. For the first time, Erin didn't mind when she brought up the time when she had flung Narthing from his broom. There were not appalled reactions, just a few shrugs and a snort or two. _These are real friends,_ Erin thought as she listened to them talk with out a care in the world. _I'm glad they count me as one of them; I couldn't be more lucky_. The night was just as Erin had dreamed it would be, until she decided to get a drink.

"Hey, Erin," a familiar voice, one she was not particularly keen on, drifted into her ear. "Come over here." She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Narthing's brown hair and bronze Quidditch robes whip around a dark corner. Feeling she ought to obey for the sake of peace, _He _is_ the one that actually won the game_, she rounded the corner and spotted Narthing a little way down the corridor staring at a painting.

"What do you want?" she asked him, stepping up to the portrait and watching it with some interest. Not that it was an exceptionally _interesting_ piece of work. The older witch in the portrait was dully sleeping in a stiff wooden chair that looked to be more like a torture device than anything considered comfortable.

"Oh, not much," he said awkwardly. "Just wanted to say congrats on how well you did at the match today. It's hard to believe that it was just today. Anyway, you played brilliantly."

Erin snorted. "Yeah, I wish," she muttered. "It should be all tip 'o the hat to you, Narthing. You caught the Snitch; you won the game for us. Not like I had a whole bunch to do but make sure the Bludgers from the Yanks didn't knock us off our brooms. It's not _that_ hard."

Narthing laughed. "You always had a way with words and expressions," he said, gazing at her with his normal dreamy eyes. "I like that about you."

Erin decided to refrain from telling him what an absolute jerk he was. "Well you aren't the first, now are you?" she sighed.

Narthing was a little taken aback, but he recovered quickly. "Come look at this picture down here," he motioned further down the dark hall. "They've got this one about a zany minister; Bates was telling me that he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer." Narthing led her down and stopped again in front of a life sized painting of a wand wearing bright canary yellow wizard robes.

Erin's eyebrows rose. "I'd have to say he's a bit off." She watched as the wizard began transforming random items in his portrait into other random things. He had quite a collection of well, random pieces of everything. A chair became, as far as Erin could tell, a flea. The bookshelf became a clam. "It's not all that big of a stretch to see why he's not the minister anymore."

"Also seeing how he lived in the 1500's." Erin blushed and turned to Narthing to make some remark that would have explained why she hadn't noticed the plaque next to the painting. This, however, was quite the wrong thing to do.

In an instant, Narthing's arms were around her, his mouth on hers. Erin tried not to notice the pungent smell of alcohol on his breath as she struggled to free herself from his strong arms as his hands began to caress her back.

"Lemme go!" she squealed when he broke the kiss.

His eyes gleamed. "Why?"

"How many reasons would you like?"

"You know, that's another thing I admire about you," Narthing breathed down her neck. "You always find a time for humor."

"This is _not_ humorous!" Erin screeched, outraged. "You're a bloody figjam, you're off your face," she didn't hear his reply, "I despise you, and I bloody told you to let me go! Now do it!" None of these reasons seemed good enough for Narthing, because he didn't do as Erin asked. It might have been that he could have cared less if Merlin ordered him to. He caught her mouth again and moved his hands down towards her hips. She wriggled away, shocking him with unexpected strength. "You...bastard!" He nodded and advanced on Erin. "You're sick!"

"I know. But you're so...irresistible." His hands made to grab Erin again, but she took the advantage of having him slightly off guard. A callused fist, granted a powerful one, collided with his cheekbone and sent him spinning into the painting of the former minister.

"You bitch!" Narthing cursed and wiped his eyes. "Goddam that hurt! I'm going to report you to the team owner."

Erin could care less. "For what?" she bellowed, not at all sorry, and moved forward until Narthing was inches from her foot. "For assaulting me? That's what you bloody did, Narthing! If you do that, the _team_ will kick you off. Doesn't bloody matter you've caught one Snitch. And I thought I could _trust _you." He recoiled from her. "That's right! You stay away from me, you hear? You touch me one more time and I _swear_ I will make you cactus." She didn't await his response. Before she broke out into tears, she waved her wand and disapparated with a 'pop'.

* * *

A soft rapping on her door woke Erin from a trance. The rain was gently pinging on her window and a warm fire was crackling in the hearth. Sighing, Erin shifted in her bed so she was able to see the closed door. "I'm busy," she called. "I can talk to you later; tomorrow, actually. I'm too tired to talk to anyone tonight."

With a hushed groan, Erin drifted off again, contemplating Hugo Narthing, the game, and the rest of her experience at the afterwards party. Erin restlessly turned back to the window, her hand still stinging from where she had slapped Narthing earlier. The mesmerizing splash of raindrops comforted her, a little. Unknown to her, Remus Lupin silently opened the door and watched as Erin broke down and began to weep into her pillow.

His clothes, as was his hair, were sopping wet. His normally reddish blond hair was dark with rain. Even his cherry walking stick seemed darker than normal. Only his blue eyes were unfazed. Carefully, he leaned his head against the door jam and propped his hands upon his cane, staring almost dreamily at Erin. He fingered the most recent scratches across his face and sighed regretfully. With one last, longing glance back at Erin, he turned to leave.

An unexpected explosion from somewhere above Erin's room rattled the whole house. Erin leapt out of her bed, wand in hand, and cursed darkly as she righted a fallen chair. She heard a clunk, other than one of the chair's legs reconnecting with the floor, and looked up to spot Lupin's retreating back. "Remus?" she asked cautiously, moving to make sure it was he. Quickly, he spun on his cane and awaited the rest of her sentence. Not knowing why she had stopped him, Erin sank back onto her bed confused and threw her wand beside her.

"Is there something you would like?" he asked, stepping into the room and closing the door. Erin glanced at the puddle he was making on the floor and laughed.

"You're a mess, Remus. Did you just get back from the party?" He nodded. With a flick of her recovered wand, the majority of the water evaporated. "Fancy a walk in weather like this?"

Lupin shifted his eyes slyly, nervously glancing around Erin's room. She snickered, not unkindly, causing him to grin sheepishly as well. "I was worried when I couldn't find you after you went to get a drink," he mumbled. "I thought something had happened, so I came to check if you were here." His eyes didn't meet hers; they hardly did anymore.

Erin sighed. "Come on, sit down." She patted the part of her bed next to her. He limped over and eased himself down onto the bed. "Strewth," Erin shivered, "those explosions scare me something else."

"Severus is just playing with his chemistry set, Erin," Lupin murmured, staring at his hands. "He's probably mad that you didn't offer to have him come to the party." He laughed at the very prospect. "There's nothing to be afraid of, although I find it ultimately more comforting if I stand in a secure part of the house."

"Right now," Erin whispered, "Snape's the least of my worries." Lupin shifted next to her. "There's this guy on my Quidditch team and well, he's rather a pervert, if you know what I mean. He keeps making these ridiculous advances toward me." Lupin looked up, staring directly into her lost eyes. "You must think me insane."

"I don't." He used the minimal emotion necessary.

"Tonight, he got me to follow him around until he cornered me alone and he," Erin sneered at the disgusting memory, "kissed me. I'm really confused about the whole idea. He's nice sometimes, rarely." She thought about it a moment. "Okay, never. Right. But he's just _so_ annoying. He's actually pretty scary sometimes. I don't want to spit the dummy or anything, but he really is a bit of a root rat. That freaks me out some." Erin stopped suddenly and glanced over to Lupin. "I...I just hope you mind listening to utterly boring earbashing."

Lupin chuckled. "I can assure you that I don't."

Erin sighed as she continued. "Really, it's a hopeless situation to have the both of us on the same team. I can't see any way to work out his problems, and what's worse is the manager has made me swear that I won't lay a finger on him! He makes Quidditch practice unbelievably miserable because I know I'm going to hear _something_ said to me I don't want to hear. I've told him more times than I can count to lay off, but it does not good." Erin shook her head in despair. "I actually warned him if he went as far as to kiss me I'd hex him, but all the good that did was give him ideas." Erin stopped abruptly as Lupin's hand rose to brush an arrant lock from her face.

"That would give me the same idea," he muttered and began to draw his hand away. Erin brought the trembling fingers back and rested her head as they cupped her cheek. His other damp hand spread across her neck as he slowly bent towards her.

Erin's heart raced as Lupin's lips met hers. An unexplainable desire coursed through her veins as she slid her arms over his shoulders. "I never thought we'd have to guts to..." she breathed when Lupin drew back, surprised. "Always thought I'd chicken out before now."

Lupin laughed. "I never believed you'd let me kiss you," he sighed, drawing Erin up with him as he stood up and letting his hands drift down to her waist," after what you've told me about...Narthing." Again, he eased his mouth over hers, gently coaxing it open, and overwhelming Erin with emotions she didn't think existed. Then, as quickly as it began, Lupin stepped away. "You must think me the fool," he whispered, staring back at her with downcast eyes. He continued by muttering something about 'taking advantage' and 'you wouldn't understand'.

Erin stepped the distance between them and took one of his hands. "I don't think you're the fool," she assured him, looking up into his eyes intently. "I promise you I don't."

A fleeting smile appeared and vanished on Lupin's face all in the same moment. He breathed deeply and shuddered. "That's kind of you, Erin, it really is," he said noncommittally. "But you don't have to because you pity me."

The explanation startled Erin. "But I don't," she interjected, gripping his other hand. "I could care less what you are, who you are..." She let one hand fall and reached up to stroke the three gashes across his face. "It's nothing you can help," she began, wrapping her arms back around his neck and burying her fingers in his still soaking hair. "I think our insecurities would cancel each other's out."

His arms encircled her waist once more. "Now that _is_ comforting." He was breathing quickly as Erin leaned against his chest. "I'm not going to be able to change any time in the near future." Hesitantly, he rested a cheek on her head and drew her closer, closing his eyes.

The door banged open and Tonks came bursting in, as wet and buoyant as ever. She was already speaking excitedly. "Hey, Erin! Guess what? I...I'm...I." She spotted Lupin and Erin and stopped. They turned around, Lupin's hands falling limply from Erin's waist as they stared at each other in numb shock. Tonks looked from one to the other, noticing the mussed hair and the desire still burning in their eyes. "Um...I..."

"Tonks, we..." Lupin started, but Tonks turned her face away, unable to bear the sight of her heart's only desire springing out of her reach with her best friend. Lupin saw Tonks' betrayed look before she was able to hide it.

"No, it's really all right," she said softly. She started to back out the door, but Lupin reached out a hand and grabbed her.

"Tonks, really, we didn't mean..."

"Spare me," Tonks snarled suddenly, ripping Lupin's hand off her arm. She looked back at the two of them and tried to smile. "Look, you two...don't mind me. I'm sorry I interrupted."

"Tonks, I'm sorry, I didn't expect..." Erin started forward, but Tonks wouldn't look at her either.

"Cark it." She looked at Lupin. "It was just a crazy dream after all." She whirled around and ran down the stairs. Moments later, they heard the door slam. They looked at each other, worry written in their faces.

"That's probably not good," Erin whispered, biting her lip. She sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

"Erin," Lupin mumbled, stepping towards her and paused. He sighed. "I'm sorry." Lupin suddenly didn't quite know how to talk to Erin. He made to reach out to her, but stopped himself halfway. "I should never have come looking for you," he muttered as he limped towards the door. With a tired sigh, Lupin pointed his hand behind him and caught his cane when it came flying into his hand. He never glanced back at Erin before he left, instead preoccupied as he wondered just what he had done to one of his best friends.

Erin stood in mild shock, eyes locked on her empty door. One hand was unconsciously held where Lupin's hand had been previously, the other covering her mouth. Her tears burst out anew as she shuffled over to her bed and flopped down. It was as though nothing had occurred in the room. Erin's tears had only grown more frequent.

* * *

Tonks slammed the door as she walked into the kitchen.

"BLOOD TRAITORS! HALF-BREEDS, CHILDREN OF DESPICABLE FILTH!" Tonks snarled inwardly as Mrs. Black's screams filled the house. "RUINING MY REST! WELL, YOU DIRTY MONGRELS HAVE NO SENSE OF MANNERS THESE DAYS; LIKE A PIG!" Tonks glanced at the shadowed clock. "12:30 AM: TIME TO BE ASLEEP." _Like hell_, she thought crankily.

"DIRTYING MY HOUSE WITH YOUR DISGUSTING PRESENCE! IS THERE NOTHING SACRED LEFT IN THIS WORLD? WE'VE BEEN RUN OVER, MY PUREBLOOD SIBLINGS!" At the last shriek of Mrs. Black, something in Tonks snapped. She whirled around and slammed the kitchen door for the second time as she stormed up the hallway.

Mrs. Black saw her coming and opened her mouth to continue her rant.

"Shut-up, you cranky bitch," Tonks snarled. And to her surprise, the portrait actually stayed quiet. "It's 12:30 in the morning, you said so yourself, so stop disturbing good, hardworking people. It's hard enough to deal with your horrendous face in the daylight; we don't need to hear your amateur caroling in the middle of the night. It _is_ caroling, isn't it? Spreading the joy of pureblood pride and mudblood filth, never mind, that your own precious pureblood relatives are some of the most wanted criminals in our world." Tonks glared angrily at the portrait, but it was now so stunned at the tirade the girl had unleashed on it that it stayed quiet.

"Good," Tonks said quietly after she had glared at the portrait for what seemed like an eternity. "Keep quiet, you hear me?" She turned to walk away, but as a parting shot the portrait shouted,

"Or else what?"

Tonks turned around slowly and smirked, her hair gleaming in the dim light. Slowly, her eyes morphed into those of a giant cat and her open mouth held sharp glistening teeth. She raised her hand, and the portrait saw needle-sharp claws wounding the air in front of her. "Or I'll slash you to pieces. Taking a leaf out of your son's book, you know." The portrait's horrified gasps could be heard all the way down to the kitchen. This time, she carefully shut the door and cast a silencing spell before kicking the table with all her might.

"Ow! Damnit!" She hopped on her hurt foot as she yelled into the supposedly empty kitchen.

"Well," a dry voice remarked, "look what the cat dragged in." Tonks turned around angrily and turned a brilliant shade of red as Severus Snape stepped out of the shadows. He smirked at her as he deliberately eyed her from head to toe, hooking a chair with his foot and seating himself at the table. His skeptical gaze remained on Tonks, and she shifted uncomfortably. "You know," he drawled, "that hair of yours clashes horribly with your face."

That caused the blush that had been dying down to burst up again with a vengeance. "Oh naff off," she muttered as she turned to face the wall.

"Aw, struck a nerve?" Snape smirked at the young girl's back as she made another frustrated noise. "So, what's got you up at this ungodly hour?"

Tonks turned around slowly. "For firsts, please tell me I _didn't_ just hear you ask how I am. Second of all, why do you want to know? Oh, and did I mention that it's none of your business!" She shrieked the last sentence.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Touched a nerve, didn't I."

"You cliché person!"

"What," he snapped back amusedly, _like you aren't?_ He put on a Tonks voice. "Wotcher, Lupin! Wotcher, Erin! Wotcher, Arthur! Wotcher, Dark Lord!"

"Wotcher, Snape! Shut up, Snape! Go away, Snape. Naff off, Snape. Get the picture?" Tonks glared.

"Whoa there." Snape looked the tiniest bit off balance. "What's wrong with you today? You hardly miss your chances to spar with me, not that you ever win."

"It's called 'not being in the mood'," she snapped. "Similar to why you insist on acting the surly, quiet, psycho, Harry Potter hater all day long." The two just looked at each other for a few minutes.

"Tea?"

Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "Did you just offer me tea!" she asked, eyes going wide at the mere prospect of the idea.

"Are you going to rub it in or do you want tea?" Snape scowled.

"Sure...hot with milk and three sugar cubes." Tonks looked numbly at Snape as he calmly conjured up a teapot, sugar, milk, and two cups. He slid one over to her, and she calmed down slightly. She took her cup and let it cool a little before taking a sip.

Snape watched her idly as he nursed his own mug of hot tea. "So what's really going on?" he asked after Tonks had finished her first cup and was starting on the second.

"Um," she said, not quite meeting his eyes, "no offense, but you aren't exactly my idea of an emotional counselor." She looked at him a bit more. "Actually, you're nothing close."

"Try me." The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He mentally hit himself. _Great going, Severus,_ the voice remarked sarcastically, _now she's going to think that you're completely out of whack. How could you possibly say that to her? Didn't you just hear her? She doesn't want to tell you! She doesn't think you're an...emotional counselor..._ He snorted at the very thought of that. Emotional counselor indeed. "How would you know if you don't try? I mean, I might just end up an unlikely emotional counselor." He tried to smile but ended up sneering instead. Tonks giggled.

"Did you just try to smile?" She grinned at him. "I must be making history today; first person to see Severus Snape smile! Ooh! Alliteration! I am GOOD!"

"Well, your mood certainly changes quickly," he snorted, but immediately looked subdued when Tonks sank back into her chair, her gloom resumed.


	13. The Chess Game

_-Sorry to everyone who's reading this. Obviously I didn't update in quite a while. Whoops. Anyway. Enjoy._

_J.S._

**CHAPTER TWELVE: The Chess Game**

The days after the party inched their way through the hours, in Erin's opinion, and were sluggishly slow getting around to nighttime. Ever since the Welsh win over the Americans, more accurately the party after the win, the darkness of her room was the only freedom that Erin felt she had. She counted every minute of every hour until her mind could be set away from the uncomfortable pain it was in now. Not that she'd never felt pain before, she would remind herself.

The feeling she'd grown so accustom to having weighing her down day and night, the one that her new cast of friends had erased, was back. An unbelievable sense of personal guilt seemed like it had come back to stay for good. Tonks hadn't spoken to her since the INCIDENT, as Erin referred to it in her mind. Lupin had tried his best to persuade some type of communication between the two of them, but in vain; Tonks seemed pretty keen on avoiding him as well.

Perhaps Hawthorne Bates noticed Erin's low spirits, or he might have noticed the rest of his team's ecstatic ones, because two days after the Club's outstanding victory over the American Eastern Team he gave everyone on the Club three days off to rest and recover. Erin's other escape, an escape from her reality, had vanished. She had never been so dismal about an upcoming holiday in her life.

Erin sat on her bed reading her favorite Muggle author, Jules Verne, trying to successfully live through the three days Bates had given to them. She'd made it through two and a half without incident, other than Mrs. Weasley wondering if she wasn't up to perfect heath. It had taken quite a lot of effort to convince her otherwise. Unbeknownst to Erin, her door opened unexpectedly and Tonks slid into the room. Disturbed by the draft, Erin looked up and jumped when she saw the pea-soup green hair.

"Hey," Erin greeted alarmed at the sudden appearance. She stuck her wand in her book as a placeholder and set the book aside. "What are you doing?" Tonks shrugged, eyes entranced by something on the floor. "Well, come on in; sit down." Tonks nodded once and cautiously sank into a chair that stood by Erin's desk. "So." Erin felt there wasn't much she could say that would start their conversation out right. After all, it hadn't been her that had gone in search of Tonks. The little witch obviously had something to say.

"I'm sorry," Tonks whispered shortly. Erin was astounded. "I hope you're alright. I've not seen very much of you, and you didn't go to work yesterday. Did I do anything?" Her eyes never left the floor.

"No," Erin replied slowly. "I've had the last few days off because the win in the States. Yeah, I'm just grand." The tone of her voice was a dead giveaway it was very much the opposite.

"No one's seen you very much."

"I've been reading," Erin explained and she held up her book. Tonks didn't look at it. "Anyway," Erin sighed, "it should be me doing the apologizing." Tonks looked up unexpectedly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight, and I didn't know what I was doing. Gods, Tonks, I feel like an idiot." Her confession felt a lot better out in the air than it did cooped up inside. "You gotta accept my apology."

Tonks stared at her carefully for a few moments. "Why'd you do it?" she asked, eyes threatening to cry.

Erin bit her lip, slightly confused. "What do you mean? I just told you." Erin's eyes drifted away from Tonks' powerfully keen ones. "I'm sorry alright? If I hadn't have gone to the party nothing would have happened. It's my own fault, I know. But god damnit I didn't mean to. It won't happen again." A shadow of a sneer appeared on Tonks' face. Erin couldn't tell in the light. "I can't have it happen again," she mumbled to herself.

"Why?"

Erin looked up, surprised Tonks had heard her last sentence. "Quidditch is the only thing that's top on my list right now," she replied truthfully, "and I 'spect it's going to be there a while. I can't have something get in the way. I've got a World Cup that's had my name written on it for four years to win." Erin shook her head and sighed. "I've gotta give it my best shot, undistracted." She lay back on her bed and watched for Tonks' reaction. It didn't take long.

"So you don't like him?" she asked quickly. If the situation hadn't been so emotionally tense, Erin might have laughed at how childish the question sounded. "It looks like he's fond of you."

Erin's brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Tonks raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Don't tell me you didn't notice," she warned. "I'm not a complete fool. I saw, Erin. Don't act like you're completely innocent."

Erin felt the unwanted color rise in her cheeks. "I don't think much about the whole social aspect of life. I don't even like it." She laughed at herself, which sounded odd in context. "Whatever. I'm a recluse when it comes to stuff like that. I just don't like it, period, and I dunno."

"So you don't like him," Tonks summed up.

Erin nodded, trying desperately to not look as confused or foolish as she felt. "I dunno, like I said. I don't think I do." _Sheesh! I never thought I would be the one on this end of this conversation...Well, on any side of this conversation, but..._Tonks sat in silence, brooding. Finally, Erin sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed. "So what's with you?"

"Nothing."

"Come on," Erin pleaded, hoping to amend their friendship. "I stood for your interrogation. Just answer me that. It wouldn't be fair otherwise."

"Fine." Tonks was sullen again. "I've never put this out in the air ever, ever before. I really didn't think I had to," she added as a comment to herself. "I like Remus."

Erin's eyes widened with realization. "Oh. Damn, mate, I'm sorry," Erin whispered, feeling more guilty and miserable than before. "I didn't know."

"Well that was pretty obvious," Tonks muttered.

Erin stared at her, mouth open. "If I'd a known that nothing would have happened!" Erin was horrified with herself. She had never been more embarrassed in her life. "I'm sorry damnit, I'm sorry."

Tonks seemed a little surprised by the response. "Listen," she began, "it's okay." Tonks attempted a smile, but she looked more like Snape. "Don't worry about it." Erin could tell she was barely hanging on to her patience.

"I should have known," Erin mumbled. "Damn, I couldn't even tell."

Something in Tonks snapped. "You couldn't tell," she snorted with fury and sarcasm. "You're unbelievable. You couldn't tell?"

"How was I supposed to?" Erin wailed, trying to keep calm. It had all been going so well.

Tonks shook her head in skepticism. "Any _normal_ person would have," she chided. "Someone who hadn't spent her whole life paying more attention to herself than the rest of the world and trying to beat other people down so you could get the best spot. All for one and one for none type of world, isn't it? Blood's important to you. Can't bear the fact that a pitiful half blood like myself would try and give you some competition."

Erin felt the heat leave her face as it was replaced by a sheet of ice. "No," she whispered, to dumfounded to say much more. "It's not like that."

"I heard that you killed your own mother," Tonks continued rashly. "Did you? We all want to know. What with our physco Death Eaters in the Order, why not have a serial killer as well? Do well to start our own little mass murder club. Killing family member and the lot."

Erin stood up with a sudden jerk and fought to keep herself from diving across the room and beating Tonks to a pulp. "Don't you dare bring my family into this," she ordered coldly.

Tonks seemed pleased she'd gotten a rise out of Erin. "That's how it is, isn't it?" She smiled cruelly and stood up, ignoring the fact that Erin was well over a head taller than she. "I don't know why Dumbledore keeps you people around. I wouldn't. You're just like You-Know-Who's right wing to me."

Erin felt like she had run into a brick wall at flying speed. "Is that what you're going to do?" she asked. "Is that how you're going to fight?" She wanted to lunge across the room and make Tonks suffer like all the years she was jesting at. With the intensity. Erin's fingers itched. "I won't tell you how it was like...to watch my mother die...torn apart. I'll spare you that. And I can't tell you what it's like to have anyone you care about die. You wouldn't understand. It would be fathomless to your mind. You can't talk about that, Tonks." Erin shivered. "Don't."

"Wallow in self pity," Tonks spat and turned to leave. "I'll leave you to your memories."

Erin lashed out. "You...don't...bloody...understand," she roared. "You inconsiderate, impolite, uncultured, ignoble, bitch! Now I know you're not some flipping larrikin." Erin was across the room in two great strides, towering over Tonks. "I would bail you up, if I had that type of mind. I would gladly put you through my pain. Where I lived the only comfort I had was someday I would die, and then it would all be over with, but I found out even in death there's pain. Someday I would wash all my guilt, all my agony, all my life's work away and then the world would be back the way it was supposed to be. That by my existence being terminated, there would be peace in the world again. Do you have any idea what it's like to, no matter what bloody thing you do, you always end up the one at fault? And even if you aren't the one at fault, you always take up the slack, cover up for the person who actually is, because you don't want them to be where you are, experiencing what you have, or had, and never do you want to see anyone in that position. You'd sacrifice your bleeding family, which is not just an example, to save one life, but it turns out that that one life is going to kick the bucket in a day or two anyway..." Tonks backed away from Erin and Erin stopped the tirade.

Tonks sneered. "Quit it, Erin!" she snarled. "Don't lay the blame on me! You don't know how it is to accidentally jump in on your two best friends and find them snogging! Damnit, Erin, I thought I could trust you."

Erin blinked, the guilt becoming the more predominate feeling in her mind. The anger disappeared. She was confused. _What the bloody hell is Tonks talking about?_ She wondered. "I didn't know!" Erin cried, trying to keep up with the conversation and worried she'd missed something important. "How was I supposed to? Forgive me! I'm not laying the blame on anyone, least of all you. It's my fault, got it?" _Damn it all_, Erin thought to herself, _Tonks got me to say that after she'd heard my say. Bloody..._

Tonks backed away from her with a look of disgust and malicious cunning across her face. "Okay, fine! I forgive you!" she snapped, lip curling. "How's it feel to be forgiven? Makes everything alright, doesn't it. Just ruddy excellent."

Erin rolled her eyes and tried to remain calm. "Tonks, you didn't forgive me. And if that's how you're going to, damn I don't want it. If _you_ bloody want to wallow in _your_ own self pity, then I'm not blery going to help you. I already said I'm sorry..."

"And you fucking don't mean it!"

"Fine, Tonks, be that way!" Erin pointed to her door. "If you can't keep a civil tongue in your head, then don't come near me!"

"Look who's talking!" Tonks countered. "You can't say a bloody thing with out adding a blery word for punctuation! Nice role modeling, bitch!"

"Out."

"I will, thanks," Tonks spat, adding the last bit rather sarcastically. "You're no friend of mine." She stalked out the door and slammed it behind her. Erin closed her eyes in exasperation. Sighing, and fighting tears, she flopped into her bed and cried herself asleep.

* * *

"Erin, wake up." A gentle hand carefully shook her shoulder. Erin rolled groggily onto her back and sat up all in one motion. Lupin was sitting on her bed, watching her closely.

"What are you doing here?" Erin wondered, surprised to say the least. So much for a day without encountering anyone. She sat up slowly.

"I was making sure you were alright," he answered. His eyes were searching.

"And why wouldn't I be?" Erin was acutely aware of how red her eyes were and the tear-lines that were tight across her cheeks.

Lupin's eyes danced with amusement. "Oh, I don't know," he murmured nonchalantly, grinning mischievously. "I heard the spat you had with Tonks about half an hour ago." Erin grimaced and looked away from him. "She's not talking to anyone, including Molly. You two must have had quite an exchange of...ideas."

Erin gritted her teeth, hating how light his tone was. "It was quite the blue. Did anyone hear what it was about?"

Lupin shook his head. "No, but they heard it nonetheless. I've got a fair guess as to what the subject was." His eyes twinkled with mirth.

"It's not funny, Remus!" Erin grumbled exasperatedly, clutching a fistful of his robes. "This is serious."

"I know." Lupin gently pried her hand off his clothes. "I'm sorry."

Erin sighed and wiped her eyes. "You know her fairly well, right?" Lupin nodded, face calm. "Well, then tell me why she's so bloody worked up about this. I told her I was sorry, several times in fact, and she blery blew up at me. I dunno what I did wrong."

Lupin turned away to hide a smile that thankfully Erin didn't see. "Tonks is going through a lot right now," he explained after he turned around. "She's been worn to nothing over the past few weeks, working day in and day out to try and capture the Lestrange brothers. You'll find that most of the aurors have next to no patience for their everyday lives right now because of this." He shrugged. "Besides that I'm not sure why she would react like that."

"You heard the conversation, didn't you," Erin asked, glaring at him suspiciously. It was more of a statement than a question.

Lupin shrugged. "I heard enough."

Erin hugged her knees up to her chest. "She bloody started to talk about my family and what happened!" she winced and held her face in her hands. "She doesn't know what it was like! She brought my mum's death up. She bloody doesn't know how it was, how it is!" Erin swung her legs off the bed and leapt up. "She doesn't fucking know how it feels to watch your mum die!" Erin was pacing, not thinking clearly. She was more mad than she had been in a long time. Not since when she was living with her father.

Lupin stood up and made to move in front of her. Erin side stepped him and continued to pace and rage on. "Erin!" Lupin barked above her din, and caught one of her wrists in his hand. Erin stopped pacing and turned to face him, enraged. "Calm down." His voice was quiet now. "It's not your fault, alright? Tonks was wrong to bring something she doesn't know about up." He stared down at her. "Are you going to be quiet now?" Erin nodded morosely. "I'm sorry about what happened the other night."

Erin shook off his hand and turned away. "Don't you start too," she sniffed. "I've had enough of this whole topic for a good year or two. It's driving me crazy." She grabbed the sweatshirt off the chair next to her bed and pulled it over her tee shirt. "I want to at least try and enjoy the holiday that Bates gave us."

"You're off work right now?" Lupin asked surprised. "You didn't tell anyone."

Erin shrugged. _I wasn't planning on telling anyone until today when everything just fell apart. If I had my way no one would have known until I was back on the pitch._ "I guess I didn't get around to it," she lied.

"What are you going to do?" he wondered and steadied himself on a bedpost. Erin noticed his cane was missing. He was standing straight again in a heartbeat, as if nothing had happened.

"In the quarter of a day I have left?" Erin growled rhetorically. "Hmm. I'm not sure. Up till now my plan was to sleep, read, and sleep some more. I could work a few other things in." She still wasn't feeling upbeat about anything. Being reminded she still had over a day for imprisonment wasn't the happiest thought she could think of. "I guess I could read some more," Lupin smiled, "beat some one at chess..." Erin looked over at Lupin. "I wish I had gone to that Quidditch shop on Diagon Alley, but...I guess time ran out."

Lupin sighed at the latest news. "Do you ever stop thinking about Quidditch?"

"Not normally," Erin admitted with a rueful grin. "Once or twice, I suppose, but it's got to be bloody important." She picked her tattered copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and set it on her bedside table. "I've got to talk to you," she mumbled when she turned back around to face him.

"Very well." He didn't seem keen on the idea.

Erin yawned and began without a moment's hesitation, or tact. "You and I can't have anything going on between us, got it?" Lupin, politely confused and amazed at her abruptness, nodded slowly. Erin noticed his perplexity and grinned.

"And why is this?" Lupin asked mildly, as if the whole business amused him, which undoubtedly it did.

"Okay. For Quidditch, mostly," Erin admitted with a shrug.

"Ah."

Erin smirked, glad to momentarily have her mind off Tonks. "It's my priority, you see. I don't have time for anything else. I can't have anything else going on; it's got to be a one minded approach to the whole deal. I've got to stay focused, if I want to go anywhere with this season."

"Oh, I see," Lupin said and he folded his arms across his chest, watching her scrupulously. "And there's no other reason, or am I wrong."

Erin squirmed under his gaze uncomfortably. "So there is another reason, go ahead and sue me," she scoffed, then nervously scratched her nose. "I don't want to lose Tonks as a friend, and I'm worried about what might happen. She's important to me, just as important as any of you, and she didn't seem to pleased the other night. Um, from what I gathered in our most recent talk, she wasn't pleased at all." Lupin conceded with a smile. "You know..."

Lupin's hands caught hers and Erin stopped abruptly. "You're scared, aren't you?" he asked. A chill went down Erin's back as her eyes shot up to meet his twinkling ones. _Stop that_, she told herself. _Quit being stupid_. She shook her head defiantly for a second and then timidly nodded after he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Lupin chuckled. "Well, I completely respect your decision."

Erin stood unmoved. "I dunno," she finally said meekly, after the uncomfortable silence had ensued for too long. "Maybe we've got something in the future. Maybe after Quidditch, or whatever. After I work something out with Tonks. Whatever she needs done is done. I guess I can only play for so long until I can't play anymore at all." His hands tightened around her own, making her heart race. _Oh, grow up_, she ordered herself.

"Maybe," he agreed quietly, eyes avoiding hers. "I'd like that." Suddenly, he dropped Erin's hands and smiled uncertainly. "I'll just leave you to your reading." He glanced over to 20,000 Leagues on Erin's nightstand. "Maybe later you'll be up for a game of chess; if you have the guts to take me on, of course."

Erin laughed appreciatively. "We'll see, Remus," she snorted. "Say sometime after dinner, you think?" Lupin nodded. "Only speed chess," Erin warned, "I've no patience tonight for anything other than that today." Lupin smirked and turned to leave. "Thanks for understanding." Lupin bowed his head once as he walked out the door, customarily mute. Erin sighed, picked up her tattered book, rubbed her eyes, and flopped back onto her bed, immersing herself in the world of Captain Nemo.

* * *

"Erin?" Mrs. Weasley screeched sometime later though Erin's door. "You're going to need to come down for supper now!" Erin groaned as an annoying tapping proceeded to commence on her door. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, Molly!" Erin answered, although making no moves to put her book down. "I don't think I'm really all that hungry, actually."

"Don't be stupid, Erin," Mrs. Weasley demanded. "You didn't come down for breakfast, lunch, or tea. You couldn't possibly not be hungry unless...Erin! Do you have food in your room?" Mrs. Weasley was outraged. "How could you? You know about the horrible mice infestation we have in this house. There are specific orders..." Erin rolled her eyes and flung down her book, grabbing her socks off the foot of her bed in the process.

"Alright, Molly, I'm coming," she yelled as she hurriedly pulled her socks on and stumbled towards the door. She practically fell into Mrs. Weasley, who happened to be a lot closer to the door than Erin had expected, as she pulled the door open. Her caller was furious. "Sorry," Erin said plainly, "have I kept you long?"

"For five minutes!" Mrs. Weasley roared indignantly. "Do you have food in your room?" she demanded imperiously, despite the fact she was well under seven inches shorter than Erin.

"No! Honest, I swear!" Erin gulped. "You can search it, if you want." Mrs. Weasley wasn't convinced. She peered at Erin dubiously as Erin tried her best to look innocent. "Molly, on my honor."

Mrs. Weasley scowled. "Whatever honor is left in you." Erin didn't quite see what she meant. "Well don't just stand there! Come on. Go, shoo!" she exclaimed and began to march Erin down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she was promptly seated in the vacant seat next to Lupin, and where Tonks should have been. "Now," Mrs. Weasley said to the rest of the people seated around the table, "we may eat."

"Took you a little while," Lupin whispered in Erin's ear as he held a bowl of mashed potatoes for her to serve herself. "How goes the book?"

Erin scooped a huge serving before passing the potatoes to Hermione. "Alright enough," Erin answered and unfolded her napkin. "They just got attacked by giant octopuses, I think. Awesome, really. But I have to admit, the whole book is a little off." Through his mouthful of fish, Lupin looked mildly interested. Erin picked up her fork and sculpted her mashed potatoes as she waited for Hermione to pass her the fish. "It's a little weird," Erin said, "because the whole book is written in French and I know not a word of the language. So, understandably I'm giving my wand a run for its money." She received the plate of fish from Hermione. "Thanks."

"You're reading a book in a language you don't know?" Lupin asked vaguely, spearing another slab of fish and reaching for his knife.

Erin nodded and slid the plate of fish into the center of the table. "Naturally," she replied, not fazed in the least. "It makes the read that much more interesting, and you get exposed to a new language every book. I'm partial to books written in German or the Norse languages, but I've been able to fairly successfully translate an Italian one."

"Which was that?" Hermione had jumped in on the conversation. She seemed particularly interested.

Erin jumped at her voice and then turned to answer her enthusiastically. "I'm pretty sure that one was The Tale of Two Cities," Erin said and then frowned. "But it might have been Great Expectations. I don't think I read the title on that one."

Lupin swallowed another bite and sighed. "Why not just read them in English?"

Erin looked amazed at the very prospect. "That would take all the fun out of reading, don't you think?" she asked, mulling the concept over in her mind. "Wouldn't that get boring after a book or two?"

"I suppose."

"So what languages have you read in?" Hermione inquired and took a bite of mashed potatoes.

"I've read books in Spanish, Danish, Swedish, German, Italian, French, Greek, Latin, Aramaic, Swiss..." Erin paused to think for a second and finished her sculpture. She whacked the top off and ate it. "Russian, as well," she continued. "And I tried Chinese, but heck it was way too confusing. You try reading Crime and Punishment in Chinese. That was bloody hard."

"Have you ever read a book in English?" Lupin asked from her other side.

Erin swiveled in her chair. "Of course I have," she answered. "All my school texts were in English."

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "Anything not text?"

Erin considered this for a moment. "Yes," she said nodding, "I think I read King Babar Saves the Day when I was six. That was in English."

So continued the conversation for the rest of dinner, until Mrs. Weasley brought out an unusually fabulous dessert, and talks turned to her praise. It seemed the cause had been to cheer Tonks up, which would assumedly be why they had tomato soup for dinner, but even Mrs. Weasley's endeavors had not been enough. For all they knew, Tonks was still locked in her room, mad at Erin, and fasting away. It appeared that each person around the table had their own ideas as to why this was the case, and only Erin and Lupin truly knew. Dessert ended, when Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny began to clear the table, and Lupin, Erin, Ron, and Harry made their way to the study.

"I dug out one of Sirius's old chess boards," Lupin explained when he opened the door to the dark study. Nobody could see a thing in the low light, but he foraged cunningly ahead and lit the room's fireplace. The room sprang to life. On a coffee table there was an ancient stone chessboard, covered with spider webs, with chessmen that looked to be as old, or older, than Mrs. Black. "It's not much, but the pieces aren't deaf, like some of the other ones I found." Ron bounced over the back of the couch that stood between him and the board.

"This _is_ ruddy old, professor," he agreed as he sat down. Erin and Harry followed less spectacularly by walking around the couch. "Are we actually going to have a chess tournament?" Lupin nodded. "Great. Can I be one of the first players?"

"Sure," Lupin agreed with a smile. "Harry would you like to play Ron first?"

Harry shrugged; he didn't look overly enthused. Erin had noticed he'd grown more quiet since Sirius's death. "Not really, professor. I'll just watch, I think. Anyway, I'll probably get creamed if I play anyone." He paused, staring at a shelve of books. "I could beat Dudley though." Ron and Lupin laughed. Erin looked around at all of them, wondering who Dudley was and why it was so funny.

"Don't be thick, Harry," Ron said. "Come on." _That kid sounds just like his mother_, Erin noted. Harry dubiously sank into the couch and waited for Ron to pull up a chair. "Who knows," Ron continued quietly, "this might be one of the old chessboards that have these really weird curses on them that only lets one color win. They're gambling boards." As white, he made the first move.

The game wasn't very interesting. Harry played defense and Ron commenced to knock every one of his pieces off the board until it was Harry's king versus three of Ron's queens. Not surprisingly, Ron won the game without much effort. Lupin took Harry's spot and tried his luck against the aspiring chess master.

This game, however, lasted considerably longer than the one before it but not an incredibly long time in total. In the end, Lupin checkmated Ron using a pin, and Ron was forced to give up his seat to Erin. When they had repaired all the dusty chess pieces, Erin pulled a pawn out as her first move. Ron, eager to learn more chess strategy, watched their game intently, as Harry wandered around the study reading the numerous book bindings.

"Why'd you let him take your bishop?" Ron exclaimed when Lupin's knight rammed into Erin's wheezing bishop.

Erin shrugged. "It's a fair trade, I suppose," she said and looked over to where the fallen bishop lay. "Queen to D4." Erin's queen flung Lupin's knight from the board a little over zealously.

"You think a bishop for a knight is a fair trade?" Ron yelped. "Bishops are infinitely better."

"Oh, well."

"Oh, well?" Ron was amazed. "You just lost the game!" Lupin had made his move and Erin was viewing the board, trying to block out Ron's commentary. Lupin was listening half-heartedly with a crooked smile on his face as he watched for Erin's move.

"Knight to E7. Check, Remus." Erin turned in her chair and faced Ron. "Knights are fine. Besides, stop your jaw wagging; I'm about to win."

Ron looked down at the board. "Nice pin," he admitted.

Lupin shook his head, eliminating moves silently. "Call it a pin," he mused as he scratched his head. "I'd call it a fork."

"You have to move your king," Ron pointed out. "And she'll get your queen then."

Lupin sighed. "Alright, Erin, how about a draw?"

Erin grinned and looked up at him. "No way, mate. I want to beat you at chess. I can't have a bloody draw." Lupin groaned. "Move already! I know where you're going to move, so do it!" Lupin slid his king over on square. "And now...check!" Erin took his queen. Lupin moved his tower up to block, which was then taken by Erin her next turn.

"Just give up," Ron suggested.

"If you do that, Remus, I'm going to have to play you another blery time," Erin threatened. Lupin scowled and moved. "Ha!" Erin moved her knight. "Checkmate!"

"I didn't think you were going to do it," Lupin said as he cleaned up the board and fixed all the pieces. "The only person I've ever lost to before was James, but I think he bribed me." Harry, who had been watching the closing moments of their game, looked up but said nothing.

"Yeah," Erin countered, "well the only person who's ever beat me was my brother, and that was well over fifteen years ago. So there." She stood up as Lupin laughed and headed for the door. "Now, I've just got to read some more." Ron stood up right after her. Erin smiled. "Now don't go starting some fan club, Ron. I may not win again." Ron's ears turned bright red as Lupin and Harry sniggered in the background. "I'll see all of you around."

"Thanks for the game, Erin," Lupin called after her, but Erin was already gone.

"She's good," Ron admitted, attitude humbled by Erin's win. Harry nodded, moving down the row of books towards the fire. He grew silent again as he noticed something across the room. Lupin followed his eyes, saddened to see they fell on the Black family tree.

"Yes," Lupin agreed, trying to clear his head as he eased himself off the couch and picked up the chessboard.

"I want to play her next time," Ron said, completely oblivious to Harry's moroseness. "I learned a lot just by watching her. She's ruddy tricky. That would be a whole lot of fun trying to keep up with her." He turned to Harry. "You and I should team up and try and beat her. Maybe we could." Lupin grinned as he made his was to a cupboard.

"I'm not so good," Harry complained, wrenching his eyes from the tapestry and sighing. He walked towards the couch. Ron shrugged and moved over so Harry could sit next to him. "So, professor," Harry began as he leaned back. He stared keenly at Lupin. "What do you think of her? You're good friends, right?"

Lupin seemed surprised, and a little awkward, as both sets of eyes turned to him. "Um, yes, she's a good friend of mine," he agreed with a bemused smile and finished putting the chessboard back on a shelf.

"She seemed pretty upset with Tonks today," Harry continued quickly, smiling slyly in response to Lupin's bemusement. "Any idea what that was about? I mean, seeing as how you know her well."

Lupin's eyes locked on Harry sharply. Harry's questioning was unexpected. "No," he lied after a moment's pause. "I have no idea." Ron shifted his gaze between Harry and Lupin quickly, as if he had missed something.

Harry shrugged. "Oh. Just thought you would since I heard you go into Erin's room a bit ago..."

"I don't," Lupin said shortly, a hint of confusion disappearing from his face. He glanced around the room once, finishing on the Black family tree. His placid expression darkened for a moment. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must retire."

"Sure, professor," Harry submitted and waited silently for Lupin to leave the study.

Ron turned on him just as Lupin's robes swished around the door frame. "What was that all about?" he asked, curious.

Harry stood up swiftly. "Come on, let's go find Hermione."

"At this hour? Why?" Ron wondered, eyes wide as Harry grinned slyly.

"Because I reckon I'm on to something between our beloved professor and...and the new chess master."

Ron looked startled at the very prospect. "Do you think so?" he asked, suspicious.

"Well, yeah."

"I dunno, Harry." Ron trailed behind Harry as they made for the door. "It just seems iffy to me. Don't you think they could just be good friends?" They stepped into the dark hall. "I kinda don't think Hermione will care..." Ron nearly ran into Harry's back as he stopped suddenly. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Nothing," Harry replied, voice barely heard. Severus Snape stepped into view, eyes alight. Harry looked at Ron for help. None came.

"Hello," professor Snape drawled softly, a cold sneer appearing on his face. "I trust I find you well."

"We're alright, professor," Harry answered timidly.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And what would the two of you be doing this late at night?"

Harry's brow knotted as he spun around and looked at the towering grandfather clock in the study. Half past midnight. He looked back at Snape. "We were having a chess tournament with Professor Lupin and Erin," he explained.

"Oh, really?" Ron nodded behind Harry's back. Snape folded his arms across his chest. He was silent for a few seconds as he brooded. "I suppose you would like to tell me the real reason?" His eyes remained distant and cold. "Sneaking off, are we, on another heroic adventure?"

"No, professor," Harry sighed, feeling a twinge of sadness. He knew what Snape was eluding to. "I already told you. We were playing chess with Lupin and Erin. You must have seen them leave."

"I did not," Snape snapped as his eyes flashed maliciously. "Get in there," he pointed back into the study with a long, pale finger. "You will tell me."

Ron rolled his eyes. "But, professor..."

"You heard me, Weasley," Snape hissed. Obediently, only for the sake of saving their own hides, Ron and Harry shuffled back into the study. Snape shut the door behind them sharply. "Now," he said quietly, "reveal your real secret."

Harry fought off the urge to begin yelling. "Nothing, professor, I told you..." Snape's eyes flashed again and Harry faltered.

Ron took the opportunity to begin the defense. "Dead honest, sir, we were just talking about Lupin and Erin just now..." Now he stopped at Harry shook his head quickly.

Snape, however had already picked up on the fact. "What about them?" he asked, leaning forward as his frown deepened. "Tell me." Ron gulped and looked at Harry for advice.

Harry sighed regretfully. He knew no lies would help. Snape was probably using Occulumency on them. "I was just noting the fact that I thought that Professor Lupin likes Erin," he said, trying to make it sound as dull as possible.

Snape's face was impassive. "Is that so?" he drawled. "Well, Mr. Potter, I wish you the best of luck with your next episode of acting hero. Perhaps they would rather be left alone, or does your curiosity best their privacy?" Harry frowned as Snape did one of the least characteristically Snape things he could do. Instead of sneering, looming, or any of the things Harry had gotten used to Snape doing, Snape took a step back from the boys. He sighed pensively, staring into the dying fire behind them. With a defeated glare, he refocused his attention to Harry and Ron. "Just make sure whatever you plan on doing doesn't involve killing another Order member," he murmured softly, eyes ardent. "We can't lose any more; they're not in ready supply." With a cruelly fast grimace, the first one that Harry had actually seen appear on his face, Snape disappeared from the room.

"That bloody git!" Ron hissed. "What's he think he is, saying things like that?"

Harry grimaced, fist clenched tightly. "Come on," he said slowly, voice wavering as he fought to stay calm, "let's get to bed before he comes back." Ron nodded and they made their way up to their rooms.


	14. I am the Shadow

_As you can see, I've changed things around a little bit…mostly because I thought it'd be more fun to look at actual chapter titles rather than Chapter One, Chapter Two, and so on. I don't know if any of you are particularly interested, but in writing the Sequel (and yes, this story is already complete) I came across a sticking pointing this story that I will have to remove for the good of its successor. I also find the reaction between Snape and Tonks slightly more realistic. My apologies to whoever felt that the previous Chapter 13 was of any good, I'm sure we can make amends. Maybe._

_J.S._

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: I Am the Shadow**

Snape sat in the room across the hall from the study for a long while, doused with smoldering light that flickered from the fire hearth, tapping his chin while staring into the coals. His eyes drifted from the coal momentarily to stare at a spot on the ceiling. He blinked to ward off the overpowering sleep that crept up upon him. After all, a day and a half awake was enough to make anyone tired. Licking his lips, he put his palms on his knees and rose from the couch.

For a moment, he stood staring into the embers; they danced in his dark eyes. With a grunt, he waved his wand and the room went dark. No one could have possibly seen him leave, but no one was up besides him. He was used to sneaking around the darkness. He liked the security it gave him, and the discomfort it gave others. That was always good...no, not good. Excellent. It was excellent. He stopped in the shadowy kitchen, watching for movement. He didn't waste any time sliding away, up the kitchen stairs to the living quarters of the rest of the Order. But he stopped before he came to his room. He hadn't planned to go all the way to his own. He knocked on a door he'd never considered before and waited sullenly in the darkness.

"What?" came a sniveling voice from in the room. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

Snape glowered for a second. "Tonks, open the door." He laughed inwardly at the pause in the room. The door drifted open almost immediately and Tonks' red eyes peered out at him. "Are you going to let me in?"

"Why?"

"I want to talk with you."

Tonks sniffed and looked down at the floor so he wouldn't see just how red her eyes were. "Fuck you, Snape, you're just going to scold m." Tonks second-guessed her accusation. "Aren't you?" she added glancing up to his scowling face quickly. Snape looked surprised at the very least. Under his slick hair his eyes widened. "Well?"

Snape licked his lips nervously. "No."

"Ah bull shit, Snape," Tonks spat, glaring at him. "When were you ever one to show even the slightest amount of compassion, ah?"

"I only want to help you…" Snape murmured, face masked behind greasy locks. "Just help."

"Fuck you," Tonks sniffled and took a step away from the door jam. Severus swept inside cautiously and closed the door. He took in the layout of the room quickly, with just a glance around the room. A low hearth dead center, her bed off on the left side of her room, and some form of writing desk under the window off on the right. Her room was a disaster, but given her present emotional state...It probably didn't matter much either way; he expected that it was most likely not much cleaner normally than it was now. Her desk was particularly messy. However, she had managed to keep a fire going in her hearth, though Snape doubted if she'd paid much attention to it at all.

Tonks sighed and moved over to the fireside. "What do you want?" she asked suspiciously, watching him intently. Snape stood fixed where he was. When he didn't answer, she shot him an annoyed glance. "This wasn't my blery idea, you ass."

Snape took a half step towards her. "Is...is everything alright?"

The small amount Snape advanced was completely counter-acted by Tonks' incredible leap away from him. "That's the second time you've asked me something along those lines, Snape," she snapped at him shakily, "and I told you never to ask again. How many times do I have to tell you?"

Snape sneered. "Do you not _want_ anyone to ask how you are?" he wondered in exasperation. "Are you immune to all those complex and utterly confusing emotions of the female mind?"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Don't you dare…" she began, pointing a shaking index finger Snape's way, "as me about myself again. I loathe you Snape. Loathe, hate, dislike, abhor, detest, and despise you. Don't go into my personal life, you bastard." They stared at each other for a moment longer.

"Well, at your present state of mind and temper no one else is going to ask you," Snape hissed.

Tonks simpered unappreciatively. "Well, maybe I don't want anyone to ask me," she retorted. "Ever thought about that?" She seemed to come to a sudden realization. "Why the fuck did I even let you in?"

Snape turned away from her, seething, and coughed. "I know what happened between Erin and Remus," he started quietly. He heard Tonks curse behind him.

"What makes you think that you're even welcome to share these things with me, jerk?" she snarled, adding a few more curses at the end.

"Look," he growled, turning back around to face her. His face was no longer calm. "Maybe I just want to help. I already know everything."

"You're a fucking pervert, Snape," Tonks spat. Snape almost laughed out loud. "When I tell you I don't want you to talk to me...what part of that don't you understand?"

Snape hid a grin quickly, keeping his face concealed. "You are either still upset Sirius died, or you are mad at Erin," he continued as Tonks' face slowly transformed into a look of utmost rage. Snape paused dramatically. "However, since you spoke to Erin, and Sirius can no longer talk back to his superiors, my suspicion would be you are mad at Erin."

"I'm going to kill you," Tonks whispered coldly, stunned at the callousness of his words.

"I know," Snape replied as if it were common knowledge.

Tonks sighed, seeming to only half realize that Snape was still in front of her. "I don't understand why he'd do that to me…why Erin would." She spoke to the fire's mantelpiece. "Merlin, it doesn't make sense." Snape's brows contracted for a moment as he heard an odd tone in her voice. It was sad, melancholic, but there was something else...He shook his surprise off and kept his face calm. "I've loved him since he was even hit with that stupid spell."

"Well, maybe someone else feels the same way about you." He said everything so quickly, so fluidly, Tonks was unsure if he had said anything at all. The topic change had been so abrupt, and unexpected, she had quite forgotten what they had been talking about before.

"Did you just…" Tonks began, still mulling his fast words over in her head with an already over taxed mind.

Snape took the opportunity to continue. "It's not that I…well, erm." It was the first time Tonks had ever heard Snape hesitate. She stared over to where he was with a look of horror on her face.

"You fucking bastard!" she exclaimed, not at all amused. "You just…"

"I don't think you completely understand," Snape said hurriedly, trying to talk over the curses now erupting from Tonks. "You're being completely irrational right now."

Tonks was fuming. "Oh am I now?" she leered, sneer worthy of even Snape's praise along side her nose. "You were just about to bloody start spouting Shakespearian love sonnets to me and now you're telling me that I'm being irrational? What the…"

Snape suddenly returned to the menacing potions master Tonks remembered so well from Hogwarts. "You will never," he growled, voice bitter, "even suggest that I would do anything of the sort. Do you understand?"

"Only if you leave right now."

"You are in no place to bargain with me," Snape snapped, hand fluttering over his wand pocket.

Tonks shook her head and pointed to the door. "I don't know what you're talking about, bastard," she admitted. "Go now, and leave me alone!"

To her surprise, Snape left. He turned on his heal and stalked from the room, closing the door behind him with a resonating boom. A smile crept over Tonks' tear streaked face. A victory! Her thoughts, however, quickly returned to their conversation. _What does he mean_, she asked herself, _I'm being completely irrational?_ Not feeling exactly up to figuring it out, she summoned herself and pot of tea, unearthed a teacup from her floor, and continued crying.

Lupin bounded up the stairs three at a time, listening to Erin's scuffing footsteps on the stairs grow louder. As he rounded the bend directly behind her, he slowed down to a casual saunter, trying not to breath too quickly. She grinned, and the two made their way up the long staircase and to their separate rooms while Severus Snape was busy interrogating Ron and Harry downstairs. Erin could tell Lupin was on edge, but it was beyond her as to why. She was confident he'd work everything out in the end. He always did. They stopped together at Erin's door.

"Good night, Erin," Lupin whispered, head bowed but breathing returned to normal.

"See you tomorrow, maybe," she added with a grin. "Thanks for the game, Remus. Maybe you would like a rematch?"

"No," Lupin replied, staring at her intently, "you'd beat me again. I'd rather you only beat me once, and therefore my record only slightly marred." Erin laughed and opened her door. The silence was becoming awkward.

"Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight." Lupin hesitated for a moment and then continued his path up the stairs to his room. Erin sighed and closed her door once she was inside. She quickly pulled off her socks and, too tired to change into anything else, sank into her bed. Right after she shoved her book onto the floor, she was out.

* * *

There was fire; Erin could smell it even as she lay in deep slumber. Cries of tormented souls pounded in her ears. Flashes of smoke, ash, charred bodies played across the inside of her eyelids. A burning child ran across her vision, screaming and begging for help. Erin felt her throat constrict as a mouthful of embers flew into her mouth.

She was one of the people running from the fire. She felt the panic burst inside her like an overblown balloon. Not just panic, though. There was hatred, and guilt. Guilt that she had been one to survive; all the people who had been second behind her perished. She shook her head to rid it of the flaming coals. Terror, pure disgust. Loathing towards the cowards who had done this. Retaliation. She turned back around, facing the sickening wall of fire. She would hurt those who had hurt her. Kill them. Destroy their lives as they had done to hers. She would...there was a sickening crunch and everything went black.

Erin woke with a start, drenched in sweat, heart pounding. The blackness that surrounded her gave new meaning to the feeling of loneliness. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. She slid off her bed, grappled for her wand, and conjured a glass of water. She drank it all in one gulp, realizing then how parched and hot her mouth was. Shaking her head, Erin fell back to her bed a drifted off to sleep once more.

Her dreams brought her back to the fires. This time dark figures, clad with long black cloaks, drifted around the burning remains of whatever complex was on fire. She saw it through their eyes. They had a mission, given to them by a higher force. This was how a divine being decided to rid the world...purify the world...of all the evil that encompassed it. That was simply how it was. Erin watched as her own hand brought up an unfamiliar wand and set fire to a small child running in fright. No feelings of revulsion, utter horror at what she had done came to her body. She felt nothing, other than the strong sense of purpose. _They are not humans_, she told herself. _They are not comparable to humans_. They had been put on the earth solely for the manpower of the world. Now that there was no need for them...they did not need to exist anymore. There was no need. Only those of pure wizard blood, and those who believed, lived.

Her group of black robed figures sought out the survivors; it didn't matter what they were. People, horses, cats, dogs...all condemned to die by the rules set forth long ago. More pleading cries exploded with the fire. And then Erin saw it. She saw a ghostly figure rise from a smoldering body. It was transparent yellowing green, face disfigured, skin missing. It glowed with the light of the flames behind it.

Erin's eyes flew open. Her fingers prickled. She turned on her bed, trying to get comfortable, still trying to rid herself from the numb feeling from her earlier dream. Moonlight was splayed across her bed. Groaning, Erin heaved herself out of bed for the second time and made her way over to the window to close its curtains. The color of the full moon stopped her. It was the same eerie yellow color of the flames...and the ghost. One emotion crept back into her mind. Fear. Erin snapped the curtains shut and went back to her bed. Sleep took her uneasily this time.

"You have done well, my brother," she heard an unusually nasal, and unnaturally smooth, voice congratulate. "Your work in Woop woop will be rewarded handsomely." Erin's view shifted from the floor up to the speaker. It was Luka; she saw him as clearly as if she had been the one standing before him.

"It was not myself that set the fires, my lord," she heard a voice say. It came from her mouth. Her lips formed the words. "That was the work of Harrow."

Luka's eyes flashed. "He is not supposed to be here."

"I know, my lord." The voice that came from Erin's mouth was familiar. "He told me there was grave need. That he had found someone where he..."

"I do not need to know," Luka dismissed. "I shall deal with him later." Erin felt herself bow at the waist, eyes never leaving her master. This was different. She had control of her own mind. Instead of being the person she was seeing Luka through, she was herself. And every ounce of her hated the man before her.

"What will you have me do now." The voice of her host was bored. "Command me."

Luka smiled cruelly; the smile never made it to his good eye, nor really past his lips. "I will give you no more tasks today, Liam," he answered. _Liam_, Erin's own voice cried out in her head. _Liam wouldn't have done that; Liam wouldn't have set the fire and killed all those people. He's not like that_! A smile played across Luka's pale face. "Go home."

"Thank you, my lord." Erin's eyesight was wrenched from Luka's wretched smile and began to fade...

When the lights came back to her eyes, Erin was sitting next to someone bent far over a desk. A dim candle was burning between them. The scratching of a quill met her ears. Her eyes briefly roamed the room. A clock mounted on a wall said 1:34. Briefly, Erin woke from her dream. The clock above her door said 1:35. _That's odd_, Erin remarked sleepily and nodded off again.

* * *

The man at the desk looked up suddenly, his jaw muscles tightening as he concentrated. In the dim light, it was hard to tell exactly whom Erin was watching. He set down the ink-splattered quill and rubbed his brow. A slice of moonlight pierced the room. Suddenly the room lit up.

Lupin stared at the white light across his floor in horror for a second, gripping the edge of his desk, and then leapt out of his chair. He quickly darted through the shadows and to a glass cabinet that was shoved off into one corner of his room. Throwing open the glass doors, he picked up a vile of pea-green slop and uncorked it. Without any hesitation, he threw back his head a gulped down the liquid until only a small amount remained. He slowly brought the glass away from his mouth with shaking hands. Moonlight engulfed the room. Erin watched in alarm as the yellow light of the full moon slowly crept up Lupin's body. He stood deathly still. The vile he was clutching dropped to the floor with a crash.

Erin had seen many werewolves transform before, but she had never considered the horrendous pain that they suffered through. She saw the battle between Lupin and his werewolf mind clearly on his face. His arms twitched, thinning and extending out from their normal length as coarse, gray hair covered his body. His hands coiled into tight fists and sprouted long claws. His back arched and broadened, splitting the shirt he wore and sending it falling to the floor. His knees shifted to the back of his legs as they quickly morphed into huge hind legs of a wolf. His nose lengthened into a long, tapered snout. His ears moved to the top of his head and grew to fine points. Blinking slowly, the werewolf slumped to all fours and turned to look directly where Erin was. Lupin's eyes stared sadly out. With a snarl, the wolf collapsed onto the floor and heaved a huge sigh...

Lupin woke on his bed, shirtless and very stiff. He closed his eyes once more and pushed himself into a sitting position. His eyes drifted down to the shattered potion vile and then across the room to his desk where the candle he had been using to write his report to Dumbledore still barely burned. Frowning, he got up, walked over to the desk, and blew the candle out. Unintentionally, he glanced into the mirror that hung above his desk and grimaced at the sight.

He'd looked worse before, oh yes, but still the sight of newly drawn blood smeared across his face was ghastly no matter how many times he'd seen it before. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He felt stupid, putting a report before the safety of everyone sleeping in the Headquarters. He'd let it get too close; he nearly hadn't made it. Lupin opened his eyes and glanced over to where the debris of the vile lay scattered around the floor. _Still some left_, Lupin told himself sadly, _I've been a fool_. With a wave of his wand, the mess was cleared away.

_What will they think_, he asked himself as he wet a washcloth in his water basin and carefully began to dab away the blood, _when they see me tomorrow? Harry doesn't deserve to see this side of me. Not after what almost happened the night he met Sirius. He shouldn't ever have to be reminded of that night._ He shook his head and squeezed the bloody water from the cloth. _And the rest of them?_ He snorted. _Molly will make a big deal out of my wellbeing, not that I would be able to avoid it if I came in with bruise. Severus...he'll make the most of any situation, and Erin?_ Lupin winced as the washcloth tore open one of the flimsy scabs on one of his cuts. He bit his lip and soaked the cloth again. _She'll know how close it was._ He lifted the sopping cloth and wiped the blood under his nose._ I wonder if she'll ask me...no, she would know I wouldn't like to be pressed about this. She knows what it's like to be alone._ He sighed and looked over his shoulder out a window where the night sky was slowly melting into dawn. _She's a dream,_ he mused wistfully and chuckled at the thought. _Odd as it is for me to even think that_.

A soft tapping woke Lupin from his trance. He shook his head, trying to make sure he wasn't imagining the sound. It was coming from the door. Quickly, he dried his face and made his way over towards the door, checking briefly to see in the mirror if his face had cleaned up. It wasn't so bad. Four long welts ran diagonally across his face. He slowly opened the door.

"Tonks?" he whispered hoarsely as he saw the little witch in the dim light. "Forgive me, come in." He held the door open and she stepped into his room. "What has you up at this ungodly hour?"

Tonks had her back facing him. Slowly she turned round. "Remus, will you accept my apology?" she asked, eyes unconsciously drifting across Lupin's bare chest. "I've been an idiot, and I didn't mean to hurt Erin like that."

Lupin smiled painfully. "I accept it," he assured her, "but it is not mine to accept." He crossed the distance and laid a hand on Tonks' shoulder, noticing how unusually messy her hair was. "Go talk to Erin; she needs that. She would really appreciate it."

Tonks sighed. "She hates me now," she said, looking up into his eyes. Lupin tried to smile, but it hurt too much. "She'll never let me come near her again after I said those things about her and her family."

Her eyes were red, Lupin noticed. His heart softened. "I will not act as a mediator between the two of you," he said quietly. "But I will tell her you and I have talked." He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "It's up to you to talk with her." Tonks nodded. "You can't let your friendship just go away."

"Yeah, I know," she agreed quickly, "I've..." She drifted off, eyes shifting around the room.

Lupin's brow knotted. "What?" he asked. "How'd you figure that out so quickly? Pardon me for saying so, but you don't come to those conclusions at first light."

Tonks rolled her eyes, uncomfortable. "Well, I did this time."

"I'll talk to Erin in the morning," Lupin told her. _If I can stay awake._ "I promise."

Tonks smiled. "Thanks, Remus." She left his room in a hurry and Lupin sighed, rubbing his forehead.

He carefully sat at his desk and picked up his quill. He didn't get farther in writing his report than dipping the quill into the inkpot. He flung it aside and put his head in his hands. _What was I thinking,_ he moaned,_ that I ever went looking for Erin; that I kissed her. Look what it's done to Tonks, to me...to Erin._ For a moment, he let his thoughts drift, but they didn't for long. _She's right. It would be stupid to continue anything between us._ He flinched as a sudden pain wormed its way up his leg. _It's funny how all of this is my fault, but neither of them are blaming me._ He pushed himself out of his chair and limped his way over to his dresser where he pulled on an oil-stained tee shirt. It was nearly dawn. _Oh well,_ he thought with a tired sigh,_ no rest tonight. Maybe I can sleep during the day_. He put the sweater hanging over his desk's chair on, stuffed his wand into his pocket, and left his room.

No one was moving about the kitchen when Lupin opened the door at the end of the long staircase. It was barely lit with the pale morning light. Grumbling to himself, Lupin lit the fire and moved off to the pantry to find some food. He hadn't noticed the person sitting motionless at the kitchen table. But he did when he came back into the main room carrying a small link of sausage.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, trying to sound calm as he set his food down on the table and pulled out a chair. "You don't normally wake up this early, Erin."

"You don't either," she countered as her eyes locked onto the scratches across Lupin's face. "So don't tell me I shouldn't be up. I bet you didn't get any sleep last night." Lupin shrugged and sat down. "I've been up for a few hours."

"Good," Lupin said absently as he summoned a knife and a plate from the large assortment by the pantry. He did a double take. "Wait, why have you been up so long? A few hours? You must have been up since three." Erin nodded. "So why?"

"Dreams that I had," Erin mumbled. "Really bad dreams."

"You shouldn't loose sleep over dreams, Erin," Lupin told her. It wasn't like her to be so jumpy. The last time he had seen her like this was after she had come back from her holiday to Australia. "They're not real."

"Yes they are," Erin whispered and shuddered.

Lupin stared at her a few moments, a half eaten sausage part way down from his mouth. "They're not normally, you know," he said and finished the link. "Would you like to tell me about whatever it was that kept you up."

Erin stared across the table at Lupin for a moment then wrenched her eyes away, shuddering. She began hesitantly, then cut herself off, biting her lip. "Parts," Erin finally agreed, "but not everything." Lupin shrugged. "I was back at home." Lupin's eyes narrowed. "There was a fire. People were burning all around me, animals too. They pleaded for mercy." Erin held her head in her hands and concentrated on the tabletop. "And I didn't feel anything. I wasn't appalled, sorry, nothing. And the feeling is still here." She pointed vaguely at her heart. "It's just bloody numb. I'm not sorry, not mad, not happy, not even really confused, or understanding anything. I don't really know what is happening around me; it's like half of me is somewhere else, and the other half is here, watching and listening. But I don't know which half is stronger. The world seems so bright around me, but I'm not interested at all..."

"Was there more?" Lupin inquired, leaning forward on the table. The rest of his breakfast was forgotten.

Erin sighed as though she was thinking about eluding his question. "I saw _Him_," she whispered, "I saw _Him_ through my brother's eyes."

"Sorry," Lupin interrupted, "saw who?"

"Luka."

Lupin suddenly understood what Erin was thinking. He nodded slightly. "Oh."

Erin took a deep breath. "My brother was the one who helped start the fires. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't kill all those people." Erin remained immobile. "I don't know what came over him."

Lupin watched her mindfully. "Do you think you're being possessed by Luka?" he asked finally. "By the way you're feeling, I mean?"

Erin frowned. "I'm not sure," she said truthfully. "Don't trust me to make any good decisions, or know what I'm saying. It's probably not a good idea."

A slow grin crept onto Lupin's face as he saw Erin's eyes close. She nodded off involuntarily for a second. "Tell me, Erin, just how much sleep did you get last night?"

Erin jerked awake at his question and stared at him blankly. "Dreaming or not dreaming?" she asked, very confused. Her eyes threatened to close again as Lupin chuckled.

"For the sake of argument, let's say _not_ dreaming," Lupin responded. Erin tapped her chin and Lupin sighed inwardly. _There's a sign that she's coming back. Ah, good._ He grabbed another sausage link.

"I'm not sure I got any sleep last night that was without a dream," Erin guessed eventually. "I've been up since about three thirty, or so. But I don't know." _Her eyes still don't look right to me_, Lupin thought as he caught Erin's eyes for a split second. Erin sighed again and rubbed her eyes. "I guess I am kind of tired."

"I could believe that," Lupin agreed and smirked. "I think you beat me. I didn't get any sleep at all." Erin's eyes scanned his face again. Briefly, her brow knotted, but she said nothing. "I don't think you should go to Quidditch today. You'll wear yourself out too quickly. When's your next game?" Erin relaxed, glad to have something else to talk about.

"A week and a half away," she answered. "If we win that one by at least seventy points, which as we're playing the only Antarctica team I think we'll pull off splendidly, we go to the Northern League finals." Her face split into a grin suddenly. "You know, I think it's funny how a bunch of wizards go down to work on Antarctica with all the Muggle scientists. Apparently, there's enough of them down there that they created a whole mini league. None of them are very good though. Imagine," she giggled to herself.

Lupin smiled at her amusement. "So you won't go today?"

"No, I'm going," Erin said. "Why wouldn't I go?" Lupin looked across the table sternly and wiped his fingers on a napkin. Erin pursed her lips. "Why'd you go a dirty up a perfectly clean napkin?" she asked. Lupin glanced up, quite surprised. "Use your shirt; it's dirty enough." Erin gulped and held a hand over her mouth, embarrassed. "Sorry," she said at Lupin's annoyed, but somewhat bemused, look. "I think I'm feeling quite better now. I'll go get some sleep." She stood up and snorted. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright," Lupin replied. He watched as Erin slid over to the stairs to their quarters, then remembered something. "Oh, Erin?" he called after her. Erin stopped, hand on the stair railing, and waited. "Tonks wanted me to talk to you, but I told her to come and talk to you instead."

Erin's face immediately darkened. "I'm not saying a bloody word to her," she whispered resolutely. "Not after what she said. The ignorant..."

Lupin cut her off. "She apologizes, Erin." He sighed. "Let it rest, will you? Tonks is sorry about what she did; at least give her the chance."

Erin nodded stiffly. "Fine, but if she says _anything_ about anything..." Erin trailed off. "Just be warned."

Lupin smiled again. "Thanks. Now get to sleep." Erin saluted as she trudged up the kitchen stairs. Lupin leaned back in his chair and coughed, wide-awake. Sleep was out of the question for him. He listened to Erin's fading footsteps for a second. Why did she always make him seem so arrogant when they talked? He didn't like the almost fatherly role he took on when they were talking. _I hope it doesn't annoy her as much as it annoys me_, he thought and sniffed. The first rays of light pierced the room. _Arthur will be up soon_, Lupin reminded himself, _and Molly. I'd better clear out before either of them get in here. They'll just make a big deal about everything._ He sighed. _I'll deliver that report to Dumbledore personally._


	15. A Shadowy Suggestion

_Ah, yes. Terribly sorry I haven't updated in a while, but then again, school junior year of high school can murder. In fact……Sorry. The point is I'm going to put up a lot just because I feel bad about not updating in a while. It'll keep you busy till I remember again. Happy Holidays too!_

_J.S._

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: A Shadowy Suggestion**

"Open the door," a cold voice commanded. The people inside the dark room hesitated for a second. The sharp knocking began again. "I'm going to give you three more seconds," the voice warned.

"Wormtail, get the door," Voldemort hissed through clenched teeth. He never liked to be surprised. To his followers surrounding him he whispered, "Ready your wands." A short, fat shadow crept towards the illuminated door and carefully opened it. Four tall figures swept into the dark room.

"Dingy sort of place, this," one commented, not bothering to lower its long hood.

"Quite true," said his companion in the back. "And I thought the basement at Helgeler was bad." There was a comical sigh from both people. "Ah, well."

"That's enough," their leader said turned to where Voldemort was hidden in the back of the room. "This new way of greeting people is quite exemplary. I confess it makes you look weaker than you make yourself out to be."

"You surprised me, that's all," Voldemort whined unpleasantly. "What business do you have with me?"

The small group of people who had come through the door laughed. "Is that how you address me, Voldemort?" the leader asked. For a second, Voldemort's eyes hardened at the casual use of his name, but it passed. "I'll let it slide for now, but only because I've come for more important matters than to put you in your place."

Voldemort fumed. "You think yourself more powerful than myself, Luka?" he taunted.

Luka slowly lowered his hood and sneered in disgust. The Death Eaters rose to their feet. "Indeed, Voldemort, I find it hard to believe that a man half a world away, unable to maintain any power other than fear, would be able to compare himself with someone of my genius. But I see you hold that ignoble confidence within yourself." Luka smiled silkily as Voldemort's face turned slightly pink.

"You are brave to jest in front of me," Voldemort spat. "You and you _pitiful_ band behind you." His red eyes glanced over to one of his Death Eater's wand.

Luka followed his eyes and grinned when he caught sight of the wand. "Maybe I am, Voldemort," he agreed with a grin, "but then again, _I _would be fighting alongside my counterparts. And as for you?" Luka chuckled to himself. "You would run in fright as we said the first curse. And not even Dumbledore would be able to keep you in our sight."

"You...mudblood!" Voldemort hissed.

Luka's eyes narrowed with loathing. He took a step towards Voldemort and the human wall surrounding him. "That's a strange word to describe me with," he whispered, mouth barely moving. Luka's good eye danced in the dim light, reflecting Voldemort's red stare. "Especially coming for your mouth. Now, it would make more sense if it were I that had said that to you." He spat on the floor and watched as Voldemort shook with rage. "Don't contradict me, you bastard. Even you, immortality seeking sludge, can't change the past. And your dear Muggle father would be oh so very distressed if you did."

"Why are you here?" Voldemort finally asked in a shaking voice. Luka sniffed and turned to his companions. "What do you need?"

Another member of Luka's party stepped forward. "My lord Luka demands that you bring Erin Langhart to us before this year is out," he explained from the depths of his hood. "That you capture her and take her to Helgeler Hall unharmed or maimed in any way. That she is to be treated like the Lord Luka until she is delivered into our hands."

"And why should I grant any of your requests?" Voldemort scoffed. "What would make me want to do anything you ask?"

Luka turned around. "Because, you dolt, if you don't I will destroy you, your ill-bred band of dog-hearted harpies, and your glorious Slytherin all in one blow." Voldemort looked quite taken aback. "And I could take that Potter kid you're always trying, however unsuccessful past attempts have been, to murder and make him head of my generals. The-Boy-Who-Lived, would be second in power only to myself. How would you like that?"

"What would I get out of this deal if I were to accept?" Voldemort asked quietly.

Luka's eye glinted as a cruel smile crept across his face. "Guaranteed no one attempts to kill you for the next month or so?" Luka's followers laughed behind him. Voldemort was obviously not amused in the least. Luka sighed. "I can give you gold," he offered.

"I have plenty of that."

Luka wrinkled his nose. "I could give you more gold than you have at present."

"I am no bounty hunter, Luka. That was what you were originally. Why would you suggest I sink to what you were?"

"Get on with your offer, pommy."

"It seems to me," Voldemort began, "that if I am to deliver someone to you, you should do the same for me."

Luka snorted. "What do you want me to do?" he asked in a voice dangerously mocking Voldemort's. "Capture Dumbledore for you and break every bloody bone in his body so he can't do anything to you? I could you know, if I was a churlish lunatic like you."

"Bring me Potter." Luka raised an eyebrow at the Dark Lord's request. "If you can capture him, then I will bring you this Erin Langhart."

Luka curled his lip. "I think not, Voldemort," he scoffed and then cocked his head to one side. "For I have the much harder side of the bargain..."

"How hard can it be for someone of your genius to capture Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked, red eyes full of malice.

Luka smiled. "Obviously you do not know how easy it would be to capture Erin," he countered.

Voldemort noticed that immediately. "Well, why don't you go get her then?" he asked. His pet snake, Nagini, slid into the dark room and right up to where Luka stood. She coiled and readied herself to spring.

Luka's smile hadn't left his face when he looked up to Voldemort from the snake. "Don't you think going to the Order of Phoenix's headquarters with a whole host of followers all prepared to kill anything or anyone that gets in our path would draw the least amount of conflict possible?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"She's in Dumbledore's order?" Voldemort asked quickly. "And how would you know this?"

Luka rolled his eyes in a very boyish gesture. "I have my informants, Voldemort," he sighed. "And I will request that they be named anonymous." Luka's eye drifted back to where Nagini was coiled. "And being half a world away from my victim doesn't make anything very easy, now does it? I need someone to bring her to me who I can bend to my will."

Voldemort was again outraged. "And I am that person?" he hissed.

"The very one," Luka drawled. "And do take that as a complement. I couldn't imagine what I would say if I wasn't watching my tongue."

"So if I bring you Langhart, you will bring me Potter?"

"No, naturally no!" Luka exclaimed as if he thought the whole idea extremely funny. "You bring Erin to me in Australia, in case you'd forgotten that's where I live, and I will give you Potter the moment you hand Erin over to me." Voldemort looked surprised. "Is that a deal?" Voldemort nodded cautiously. "Excellent." Luka snapped his fingers and his followers stepped out of the room. "Now, move your snake, or I kill her." His wand appeared in his hand. "Do it now."

"You would deserve it if she did bite you," Voldemort whispered.

Luka shrugged. "Undoubtedly," he agreed. "However, that was not what I asked you. Do you remember, or would you like me to repeat it?" Voldemort turned a horrible shade of pink and whispered something in Parsletongue. Nagini slithered away and Luka turned to leave. "Oh, and Voldemort?" he asked, turning his blind side towards Voldemort's way, "if you don't stay out of the sun, that color on your face will be permanent. Horrors, that would be nasty, wouldn't it? Who would fear a man who was as red as Ayers rock?" Luka snorted at his own joke and then shut the door behind him as he left.

"Filthy mudblood!" Voldemort cursed when he was gone.

"What do we do now?" Wormtail asked fearfully, cowering at Voldemort's side.

"Now? We will find this Erin Langhart. Jensen! Set watch at Mungo's."

Voldemort surveyed those Death Eaters who had not either returned to their homes or been already sent out to gather information about Erin Langhart. He sniffed the stale air of the dark room he was in and in one fluid movement, made a fire at its center. Its red light wafted over the people gathered in the room, making their shadows dance along the walls.

"Where is the lowborn man?"

"Here, master. Sorry, master." A man shifted nervously in the circle and stepped forward. Voldemort looked over him coolly. The man bowed at his feet.

Voldemort hissed unpleasantly as he looked down upon the kneeling man. "Were you here when Luka came?" The man cowering on the floor rose slowly, keeping his eyesight down at all times. He nodded slowly. "You will present yourself promptly. I will not tolerate this again, Snape."

"Yes, my lord," Severus whispered. "What did you call me for, my lord?"

Voldemort's eyes flashed in the darkness. "Weren't you there when Luka came, Severus?" he asked scathingly. Snape nodded again. "Well why do you think I called you, idiot?" he reprimanded. "Why?"

Snape blinked uncertainly as Voldemort waited impatiently. "I am going to help you with business surrounding the exact capture of Erin, master," Snape guessed. "Because I'm in Dumbledore's Order?"

A woman stepped out from behind Voldemort and smiled cruelly. "Why were you late to the meeting, dear Snape?" she asked. "Tell our master why you were so late?"

Snape shot her a look of complete loathing. "I was tied up with other business, my lord," he answered stoutly, hoping no one would be able to tell any of his expressions. If he had any on his face. But Bella...she always knew what was going on in his mind.

"He lies, my lord," she whispered into her master's ear. "He's always lying to you." Snape stared calmly back at the two of them, face blank of all emotion.

Voldemort sighed. "Bella, that will do." Uncertainty had entered the eerie red eyes. "He is loyal to me." Bella folded her arms across her chest, pouting. Voldemort turned back to Snape. "What business were you tied up with?" Severus's mind turned to thoughts of Tonks as he forced them clear. But they returned.

Bella was watching him with interest. "You see, my lord? He'll lie to you. He will not answer you straight away. What use do you have for a servant who disobeys his master? I've seen him always talking to Dumbledore as if they were old friends. And they say he spies on us for them." Voldemort's lips tightened momentarily in annoyance, but his eyes remained fixed on Snape's own. Snape tried to meet his master's eyes squarely.

Voldemort sneered and wrenched his eyes away. "There are no lies behind his eyes, Bella," he said, but was cut off short by another shadowy figure's sudden entrance in the center of their shadowy circle. Snape watched as his master's lip curled briefly into a loathing sneer. "What?"

"The woman is correct, my lord," the man behind the cloak murmured. All Snape could see of the man were two cold pale gray eyes. They bore into his mind unlike Voldemort had ever done, although the new man wasn't looking at him. "She accuses him of conversing with the enemy rightly. Why just this evening, my lord..."

Snape stood up. "Who are you, stranger?" he asked menacingly.

The newcomer was unmoved by Snape's question. He might not have even heard it. "It would be unwise to send him back to the Order of Phoenix complex. He will tell them everything Luka is planning to do. And the lord Luka would not be pleased if suddenly he was not only fighting those who work against him down under, but Dumbledore as well," the man said harshly.

Voldemort's brow crinkled. "What would you plan on me doing then?" he asked with only the slightest touch of sarcasm. It was obvious that Voldemort was not pleased he had to listen to this man. Snape stared between the two in amazement. Voldemort had just asked for advice from a servant.

The gray-eyed man produced a vile in his hand. "This is a beaker of the Polyjuice potion, my lord," he whispered. "Give it to your most trusted Death Eater. He can be your spy," the man turned to Snape, "not this pathetic excuse for a wizard."

Snape lunged forward. "Who are you to question me?" he roared. The man took a step back, brandishing his wand like a sword.

Voldemort stepped to Snape's side. "I will never use one of my trusted servants as a pawn for your master's mission." The gray-eyed man pocketed his wand. "Perhaps a lesser servant," Voldemort looked pointedly at Wormtail, then laid a hand on Snape's shoulder, "but not him. You'll have to find another man."

"And what are you to do when this proves the only option?" the mysterious man spat.

Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Perhaps your master has told you there is only one way to approach a problem," Voldemort sniffed, "but working with Dumbledore as an enemy makes one aware of every possibility. I credit him with that much. To defeat the enemy, you must outwit the enemy."

The man rolled his eyes. "Tell me something that's not new," he spat sarcastically.

Voldemort growled. "You are more unvigilant than your poor excuse for a master," he admonished with a wave of his hand. "Until I cannot find another answer..." Voldemort turned away.

"You are a fool, Voldemort," the man hissed. "I will only come one more time...and you should better accept my proposal if you want to succeed and capture Potter!"

Bella lunged from behind Snape. "_Crucio!_" she shrieked. The man sidestepped the curse and watched mercilessly as one of the figures in the circle doubled over with pain.

He turned back to Voldemort and Snape. "I bid you farewell." With a 'pop', he vanished.

Bella snarled. "Who does that man think he is, master?" she asked, fuming. Snape remained quietly observant at his master's side.

"I don't know, Bella," Voldemort answered and looked over at the tortured man. "Crabbe, move Dolohov out of the circle so he can moan by himself. None of us want to hear his griping." A wide figure lifted the twitching man on the floor up with ease and deposited him in the darkness. Voldemort looked at Snape. "Now, I can't have anyone whom trust hinges on borderline knowing about the inner workings of our plan, can I?" Snape shook his head quickly. "No, indeed." With one fell sweep of his wand, Voldemort cried, "_Obliviate!_" and Snape staggered in a semi-circle for a few moments. "I hope you are well suited for a challenge, my son."

Snape bowed now, with his memory partially missing, thoroughly confused. "I am always ready to do whatever you command me to, my master," he answered.


	16. When In Paris

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: When in Paris...**

Erin apparated into the kitchen, broom over her arm and bat in hand, tired and worn from the day's work. It had been productive, however straining. The team was ecstatic; the way things were looking, they had passed through the semi-finals for the Northern League's Cup, the Welsh team was going to compete in its first final in over two decades. The only problem was their opponent was Japan, the defending champion in the Northern Hemisphere League for the last three years. But for Erin, this game was just an added bonus; the game she was really working towards was the World Cup.

The kitchen was almost empty when Erin arrived. Kreacher scuttled into the pantry as Erin deposited her equipment on the table and massaged her fingers. One of her thumbs appeared to be either horribly jammed or broken, and it hurt insanely. She didn't look up when she heard someone come down the kitchen stairs and sit across her.

"What'd you do?" the person wondered, scraping a chair out from the other side of the table. Erin looked up as her heart skipped a beat in surprise. Tonks sat across from her, staring intently at her thumb.

Erin shrugged and tried to move it. "I dunno," she sighed, "maybe I broke it. I took a Bludger to the thumb instead of the bat. Damn idiot I am, see."

Tonks furrowed her brow. "Looks like it's off at a funny angle," she commented. Erin held her thumb up so she could see it from Tonks' point of view and cringed. It did look like it was off set. "You've been at a lot of long practices lately, you know." Erin nodded and carefully tried to pop her thumb back into place. "A lot more than you normally go to."

Erin tried to shrug the comment off. "We've got the Northern League finals coming up within the week. I don't think they'll be all that hard, but the rest of the team does." She shook her head and smiled wistfully. "Oh well."

Tonks leaned back in her chair and hooked her hands behind her head. "Huh. That's a whole ton of practices for just a game. I'd 'spect that you'd spend half as much time at the pitch as you would in the game room." She set her feet up on the table and sighed.

"When did you become so logical?" Erin asked, momentarily distracted from her thumb. "Heck, I didn't know that you spent more time thinking than I do going over play charts." Tonks scowled. "Ah, sorry mate," Erin apologized, noticing. "But you know I've got a point."

"Yeah..."

"Anyway," Erin continued, wanting to draw the conversation away from herself. "You've been pretty busy these last weeks too."

"Damn's right," Tonks muttered. "It's been unbelievably busy almost every day for the past two weeks!" She sighed. "Sorry I've not been able to talk to you. I really should have tried to earlier."

"It's alright," Erin replied. "I know it's got to be busy at your work. Did you ever catch the Lestrange gents?"

Tonks nodded. "Yeah, but knowing them they won't stay in Azkaban for a week or more. Somehow they always get out." She looked darkly at nothing in particular. "Nobody knows how they do it, but they do." They sat in silence for a moment or so. "I sorry about what I said...to you about everything. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did," Tonks finally whispered.

Erin nodded, caught a little off guard. "Yeah, it's okay."

Tonks stared at her. "It's really nice for you to take it like that," Tonks told Erin and brought her hands back to her lap. "after me bitching to you like that..."

"I'm sick of us being mad at each other over something we both regret ever happening. It's stupid." Erin shrugged. "I think we'd both be a lot better off if just forgive ourselves and each other. Okay?"

"Um, okay," Tonks agreed with a confused look crossing he face. "Why do you regret it?" Erin squirmed, uncomfortable with the subject and the considerable pain she was dealing with. "I wouldn't."

Erin's eyes flicked up to meet Tonks'. "What do you mean, huh?"

Tonks shrugged with a slight smile. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch."

"You already told me that. It's over now," Erin responded, now perplexed, uncomfortable, and in pain. "Now we can get back to whatever we were doing."

Tonks smirked. "You want me to help you with that thumb of yours?" she asked.

"If by helping you mean get Molly," Erin answered, "then heck no. I think I can work it back together." Tonks snorted into her arm and Erin grinned. "But if I can't get it back, then I might need you to pop it back in." Tonks cringed and Erin laughed. "It's gonna be how it's done anyway."

"Yeah, but won't it hurt?"

"Probably," Erin said, "but not as bad as just leaving it like this." She looked up from her thumb and sniffed. "Do you want me to get you a seat for the final match versus Japan? That is, if you don't have work on Wednesday."

Tonks' eyes lit up instantaneously. "Heck, I'll go even if I have work!"

* * *

"I can't believe we made it all the way here," Lisa whispered in Erin's ear before the start of the Northern League's final game. "I'm so nervous. I've never been in a game this big before ever. I've got a swarm of butterflies in my stomach this big!"

Erin looked over at the distance Lisa indicated and laughed. Inwardly, she felt the same way. "We can beat the Japanese any day," Erin assured her trembling friend. _At least I do hope so._

"They are the defending champions," Baron Flint growled somewhere below Erin's eye level. "We're the underdogs by three years."

Erin shrugged. "But you have to remember the game versus the Eastern America Team," she replied. "We were the underdogs there by a long shot too." Flint grumbled, never pleased to be spoken back to by peer. Erin shrugged. "Listen, Lisa, we'll be fine. You just watch. We'll win this game without a glance hindsight."

"When's the gate going to open?" Flint groaned. "We've only been standing here for five minutes."

"Ha! Maybe there was a malfunction," came Day's voice towards the back of their small crowd. "Do you remember that one time in..." A creaking of tightening ropes cut the talkative Chaser off.

"Ah, here we go." All seven players mounted their brooms simultaneously. Erin spun her bat in her hands nervously as she watched the field come into view. Black storm clouds billowed above as hard rain pelted their faces.

"Well, this is odd," Day smirked as they flew out of the small wooden starting box. "I'd have to say I didn't expect mid summer weather in Paris to be quite like this. Why'd they choose this spot again?"

Harrow swerved up beside him and Erin. "Because it's supposed to be ninety degrees out right now without the humidity. Be grateful." Harrow smiled tightly, in a very Snape-ish fashion. "England sends her love," Cevin muttered and fished his wand out from his pocket. "_Impervious_. Try and keep as dry as you can, both of you. I can't have anything happen due to any mistakes, got it?" Both nodded and took off across the marshy field.

Erin flew around the pitch, testing her broom for any last minute problems due to the rain. None were apparent. A Japanese player drifted past Erin, staring at her curiously. Erin smiled uncomfortably and waved hello. The person looked at her as though she was crazy and sped away from her. _He looks like a bloody practice target_, Erin mumbled to herself as she noticed the Japanese jersey. It was all white, a bad Quidditch robe color in Erin's opinion, with a blood red circle on its back.

The commentary started promptly as the two teams whizzed around the field at top speed, trying to keep warm and avoid any lightning that might spontaneously spring out of the clouds. Every now and again Erin would catch a phrase in French she was able to understand, but it was rare at that. Charles Dickens's _Great Expectations_ didn't really include much Quidditch talk. When at last the referee released the Quaffle, Erin was so cold she could have sworn her fingers were permanently blue.

It wasn't beyond Erin to see how the Japanese Quidditch could defend the Northern League Cup for three consecutive years. They were so graceful and every one of their moves was aced to perfection. They rode barely regulation-sized brooms and could fit through even the smallest of openings. Their agility made it difficult for the young Welsh team to keep up with them.

The Beater end of the game was tough, even for Erin. As soon as she directed a Bludger towards a Japanese player, they were gone and the opposing Beater was ricocheting the Bludger back towards one of her own players.

"Rauros, duck!" Erin yelled as she missed a Bludger and saw it was heading right towards the young Chaser. He barrel-rolled right into it and barely managed to hang onto his broom; the Quaffle he'd been carrying was lost to the Japanese. "Come on, Eldon, shake it off." He gave her a woozy thumbs up and streaked after the Quaffle. Erin followed.

She met up with Flint soon after, almost colliding with the small Chaser. He and Day were frantically trying to intercept the Quaffle while they dodged the rain, lightning, and the occasional Bludger that came their way. She sharply turned in a one eighty degree turn and followed them. Lisa pulled along her.

"I've got this race covered," she gasped, choking on the rain. "Go ahead and..." She coughed as they sped along, "warn Harrow."

"Right." Erin swerved out of her way and bolted towards their goals. By the time she got there, Harrow could already see the Japanese players coming head on. He waited tensely until they fired. The save was good and he passed the Quaffle to Flint.

"Damn's good you got here!" Harrow croaked hoarsely when Erin pulled up along side him to block a well-aimed Bludger. "They've been pelting me with every ball they can find! Snitch included, I swear!" His gray eyes were illuminated with a bolt of lightning. "It doesn't look good for us." Erin looked back at him over her shoulder for a second.

"Why," she asked, "what's the score?" Another Bludger was coming at them through the rain. She moved up to block it.

"Ninety to forty." Erin sighed as she pounded the Bludger back into the mist. "And we're not close to scoring anything more."

"Watch the Chaser on your left! Ten o'clock," she called back to him, but Cevin had already seen it. He easily saved the shot. Flint came soaring in behind them ready to take the Quaffle.

"Follow the Baron," Cevin ordered Erin as the small man raced through the rain. "If he can't keep a ball on their side of the pitch for more than fifteen seconds, something is seriously wrong." Erin hesitated for a moment. "Just do it! Hurry up and go." Erin nodded and scrambled to keep up with Flint. She found him passing the Quaffle through the onslaught of Japanese players. They swarmed through the air like a thick winter blizzard.

Rauros swept in and snatched the Quaffle from Flint as the older Chaser handed the ball off. The Japanese were not tricked. They closed in on Rauros quickly and tightly until one hit the Welsh Chaser and sent the Quaffle soaring through the drowning air. Luckily, Day dove down and scooped it up right before a Japanese Chaser had the chance.

Lightning seared through the sky and Erin caught sight of a Bludger aimed towards Day. Day was nearing the Keeper and completely unaware of anything around him. Baron Flint was calling and waving his arms, trying to warn Day somehow of his impeding danger. Nothing was working. _Damnit,_ Erin thought, _that'll cost us a player and a shot if he's hit. Merlin's beard!_ She lowered herself on her broom and moved to intercept the Bludger. At the very last second, Day dropped suddenly and the Bludger skidded through the air where his head had just been. Erin sighed and whooped as Day went up for a miraculous goal.

"Come on, Langhart!" Lisa called to her as they chased the Japanese Chaser back across the field. "Don't dawdle." Erin grinned and spun her bat in her hand. _Maybe we will win this one_, she thought. Lisa disappeared into the mist. _Yeah, I could see us becoming the best team of the century_. She laughed to herself and drifted almost lazily back to the goalposts. Halfway there, she noticed the rest of her team coming back at her. A Bludger was headed towards the unsuspecting back of Flint. _An easy stuff_, she decided. She was between the two now; the Bludger coming closer by the millisecond. A strike of lightning, so close in range that its light was pink, made her turn her head away, and she blacked out.

* * *

"Wha...what happened?" Erin sputtered in pain. She opened her eyes but only saw red haze. Black spots danced around her vision. Pain seared through her body. Her room swam around her in circles as foggy shapes she barley recognized rushed past. It hurt to breathe, to blink, to swallow. And what was worse, Erin didn't remember why. The Quidditch game...Japan was winning...the Bludger near Flint...the lightning.

Erin lay awake until the spots finally cleared. Her throat was parched from lack of water; her tongue was swollen and stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her stomach ached from no food. Both her legs tormented her with agonizing spasms. She lay awake in her semi-darkness until, because of the acute pain in her legs, the spots began to return and drift about her sight. Before her eyes completely clouded over, Erin tried to hoist herself up on an elbow and look around the room. A sudden, frightened pain swirled through her and she sank back against the pillows.

It took awhile for the black spots to clear again but when they did Erin closed her eyes, and wished the pain in her legs would disappear. As she lay in the silence, strange sounds from somewhere very far away reached her ears. Someone was talking, but not in any language she could understand. A light pressure on her shoulder made her inwardly groan for a second, as it took too much effort to speak out. Erin coughed and a sudden pain spread across her face. A dull headache began to pound behind her brows.

"You're awake," a relieved voice muttered at her right. "Finally." Erin jumped at those sudden words and tried to locate the speaker. They rang loudly inside her ears.

"Hey, Remus," she croaked when she saw him sitting in a chair by her bedside.

He had square reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose and her copy of 20,000 Leagues propped open on his knee. Lupin set the book aside and folded his glasses. "Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Well, what do you think, genius?" Erin countered with a smile. Smiling was the only things she could do that didn't hurt. "I'm fine...yeah," she whispered. The room threatened to disappear behind the red haze again. "Just decided to randomly stay in bed for a day or two. Not a thing wrong," she gasped.

"I would be surprised if that were so," Remus said and shook his head. "After that Bludger collided with your arm, you fell twenty yards to the ground. We all thought you'd died."

"You were at the game?"

"Almost everyone was there."

"Huh. I don't remember anything past the lightning, and really not much before." Erin tried to swallow. It felt like attempting to eat sandpaper. "If the Bludger hit my arm," she rasped, "the why the bloody hell do my legs hurt like fire? And why do I feel like carking it? Shouldn't there be a..."

Lupin placed a gentle finger over Erin's chapped lips. "Shh, Erin," he mumbled, "and spare your strength." Erin wasn't about to comply. "You wouldn't keep any potions down, your body was that weak."

Erin narrowed her eyes as best she could. "What's that...with anything?" she gasped, gulping air. Her lungs felt very deflated. "Lightening doesn't affect..."

"You fell a very long way," Lupin explained, cutting Erin off again. "I think you compound fractured your left arm twice and broke your right leg. It was a pretty hard hit you took."

"Wha'bout the game?" Erin wondered, already guessing the outcome. "Did we win?"

"No," Lupin answered sadly. "They were about fifty ahead of you, this was after you'd been taken off, when they caught the Snitch. It was a blow out."

Erin dropped a clenched fist onto her bed. The pain was excruciating. "Ah, bloody hell!" Erin cried, more about the pain than the game. Her sudden exclamation caused her a great deal of agony as well.

Lupin put a finger to his lips. "Molly will have me thrown out if you keep that racket up." Erin grew sullenly quiet. "Your team is still a contender for the World Cup even so, Erin. No sense in giving up now."

"Really, well, that's better." Erin looked around the room again; her eyesight was beginning to clear now she had something to keep her mind off her pain. "Where's Tonks?"

Lupin looked surprised she had asked. "Have you made peace with her yet?" Erin nodded and one of his eyebrows shot up. "Well, that's unlike both of you." He was obviously very pleased. "Tonks is at work. She was in here about an hour or so ago."

Erin blinked sleepily. "What day is it?"

"It's Thursday, why?" Erin snorted and tried to shift her weight so she could talk to Lupin more easily. Even lifting a finger felt like getting smashed in a vice.

"No wonder I'm so bloody hungry," she gasped in pain an gave up. "I've been asleep for a whole two days."

Lupin sighed and looked reproachful. "Almost three and a half, actually," he corrected. "I can get you some food, if you would like."

Erin shook her head slightly. "No, thanks. I doubt I'd be able to keep it down, much less drink anything. Especially if I can't keep potions down. Ugh," she groaned, "I feel like shit."

Lupin smiled and looked up at the ceiling. "I would never say you do..."

Erin scowled. "You're so funny, Remus. Ha." She snorted as he glanced back at her with a sly grin across his face.

The weak grin faded from Lupin's face as it grew more somber. Concern returned to his voice as he stood up. Erin's eyes followed him. "Go back to sleep," Lupin whispered. "You need the rest."

Erin groaned. "It hurts too bloody bad to go back to sleep."

Lupin hesitated and sat down on the edge of her bed. His hand gently smoothed the hair out of her face. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked.

Erin saw the apprehension in his eyes. "Yeah, Remus. I'll be okay." He sighed tensely again and Erin fought to swallow. "Apples she'll be, you hear?" Lupin nodded and smiled. "Don't worry about me, promise?"

"I'll do my best..." Another playful smile crossed his concerned face for a moment. "As long as you say you'll get back to bed."

Erin groaned. "You're so like my bloody father sometimes," she told him, but had no rejections to his deal. "See you later, then?"

Lupin hesitated as his brow knotted for a moment. He swiftly bent down, kissed Erin gingerly on the forehead, and stood up. "When you wake up." Erin tried to nod. "I'll have to go tell Molly you're awake," Remus sighed, rose from her bedside, and began to walk across to her door. He turned back suspiciously. "You'll promise me you'll get back to sleep?"

"Yeah, I'll give it my best shot, Remus."

"Good." Erin closed her eyes and listened to the door shut with a click behind him. The pain slowly returned like an inevitable fire. Wincing, Erin shifted slightly and tried to think of nothing. Sleep faded back into her mind.

Erin didn't wake up the next day, or indeed even the one after that. In fact, it wasn't until almost two weeks later that she did.

"How's her pulse, Gansland?" a ragged, older man's voice barked out across a small room. There was a pause.

"It's near thirty, sir," came the reply. "Within a beat of the last one I took." There was a commotion in the room and a ruffle of papers.

"Damn," the older man's voice hissed in frustration, "if it stays this low we'll have to do something I'm not sure she'd be willing to do. I would be the one who needed it if we put her on a Muggle life support system." The man turned a few more papers. "How long has she been on the IV drip, Gansland?"

"Seventy two hours, sir, but with all due respect, what exactly is her problem?" Gansland's counterpart sighed. "Sorry, Gregory, sir, I don't mean to be over inquisitive."

"No, Gansland," the Head Healer said, "I understand perfectly your confusion. It's what the Muggle doctors call a 'coma'. This one might have been induced by extreme stress or maybe a chronic state of shock."

"Oh. Will she come out of it?"

"Yes, probably; I hope so, Gansland. Sometimes in the Muggle world they can't save the victim, and not every case in the wizarding world is successful. We'll see." Gregory walked across the room and opened the door. "Come, Gansland, there are other patients to attend to."


	17. Bates' Sacrifice

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Bates' Sacrifice**

Erin made a steady recovery under the close surveillance at St. Mungo's. She was off the Muggle medications after four days upon entering, and walking around the hospital after six. Before the week was out, she was deported back to the Order of Phoenix headquarters. Erin was under strict orders from Mrs. Weasley not to leave the complex, and she found it extremely difficult to watch Cevin Harrow leave for the pitch every day and not be going herself.

She had more down time than she had in years and in the first week alone she finished every book she owned, and the majority of the ones in the Black family library. Tonks often came to talk to Erin, when she wasn't at work, and Lupin stopped by a few times too. However, the majority of Erin's time was spent helping Harry and Ron with the homework they'd been given for the summer holidays.

While Erin was recovering, however unhappy about it, the Welsh International Club was busy competing against other teams for a spot in the World Cup semifinalists' tournament. Cevin had kept her posted on the team's progress, and it appeared that the Welsh Club was moving along steadily towards the World Cup. They'd brought in the reserve Beater to fill Erin's position while she was gone and all of them were more than happy, Cevin said, to see him go. After three weeks, and Erin only marginally improving, Mrs. Weasley made an executive decision.

One day, as Erin sat in her room reading an extremely boring book about hinkypunks she'd found in the Black library, Mrs. Weasley knocked on her door.

"Yeah?" Erin answered. "Come in."

Mrs. Weasley entered and seemed pleased to find Erin resting. She pulled a chair over to the side of Erin's bed and sat down. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Bored," Erin answered truthfully. "I could go back to the pitch next week, you know, because I'm feeling a lot better." Mrs. Weasley tutted. "Honest. I think I'm doing quite well."

Mrs. Weasley let out a small, exasperated sigh. "You know you're not doing that well," she chided, laying a gentle hand on Erin's knee. Erin glared at it, then at the book she was reading. "What's that you're reading, dear?"

Erin sat in silence for a moment, staring stonily back at Mrs. Weasley. Her face suddenly lit into a dark grin. "As Hamlet would say," she began, " 'words, words, words'," she quoted, showing Mrs. Weasley the large quantities of words in the book.

"Cevin just came back from practice," Mrs. Weasley informed her, though still shaking her head from Erin's retort, "stark-raving mad. It appears that your team lost a game in the semi-finalists and if they don't win the next by one hundred points, then you're out." Erin groaned. "He also said you should find a better Beater or they don't have any chance."

* * *

The next day, when she and Cevin arrived at the stadium, Erin was greeted graciously by the whole team and another pompous man dressed in ornate robes. She grinned when Lisa faked falling off her broom, but kept a suspicious eye turned towards the new man. Bates eventually drew his team to silence.

"It's great to see you back here," he said roughly. "The rest of us are all too grateful to see that bloke Bell return back to the reserve squad." More whoops and cheers. Bates turned to the rest of the team. "We've got a lot to do, that you all know. So let's to it!" The team sped off across the pitch. "Erin," Bates continued, turning back to her, "this is a very important man; he wanted to talk with you the moment that you came back." The fat man drifted forward. _How the hell does that broom hold him up_, Erin found herself wondering giddily. It was more than great to be back on a broomstick. "Erin, mister Howard Quinn, mister Quinn, Erin Langhart."

"Yes," the fat man said thoughtfully in a very low voice. "I'm not sure you remember me." Erin's eyes narrowed as she tried to recollect the man. "It's perfectly alright," mister Quinn laughed. "I am the vice-chairman of the Northern Hemisphere Quidditch League; we saw each other briefly after you won over the Eastern States team." He glanced off into the distance. "I'd been waiting for years to see that team beat. And it's always nice to have your hometown club smear them across the turf."

"Right, sir. Pleasure to meet you." Erin shot out a heavily padded hand. He shook it warmly. _Oh, shoot_, Erin thought to herself. _Now I've gone and done it again. He's probably here for some crackpot old idea that I did something to the Japanese team. I'll be kicked out of this league and then the only place they'll let me play is the moon, or some other satellite that comes close enough. Damnit!_

"Now," mister Quinn said, turning to Bates, "I'd like to talk with both of you in your team owner's office."

This time, Bates was caught off guard. He recovered quickly. "Oh, that's right. I'd completely forgot about that. Sure thing." He led their trio back down to the ground where the dismounted and made their slow way up into the offices. All the way Erin dwelt in her surly silence and Bates and mister Quinn chatted about past relic games and promising future players. Erin was glad once they'd reached the manager's office; she didn't want to hear about the Russian World Cup of '74 ever again, although she was sure that she now knew every play by heart.

"Ah, mister Quinn," their manager greeted as all three people filed into his office. Erin couldn't help but grin at the uncanny resemblance that mister Quinn and the owner had. Both were overly obese, balding men boasting enormous potbellies and elegant robes. "I'm so glad that you were able to come. I'm so sorry that I caught you in the middle of a planning session for the World Cup."

Mister Quinn held up a pudgy hand. "There is no need," he chortled. "I was ever so grateful that you were able to get me out of that absolutely _dreadful_ ordeal. I just hate picking a tournament location." He shuddered. "Now, let's get on to what you wanted to talk about."

"Oh, of course. Hawthorne, Erin, mister Quinn, please sit down." Once they were all seated, the manager resumed his talking, looking carefully between each person, although Erin had a suspicion she was the only one who didn't know why they were there.

"Now, Erin," the manager began, staring at her intently, "I'm sure you're quite aware of our concerns with your most recent accident in Paris."

Mister Quinn interrupted at once. "Oh," he exclaimed with an added theatrical sigh. "We're most regretful at the State House in Frankfurt." His eyes softened. "All of us feel so bad that we didn't think to even postpone the game a few hours."

The manager's eyes danced with a tinge of annoyance. "Anyway," he continued harshly, "the staff here, as well as many of the players, are quite hesitant to allow you to play any longer." Erin sat straight up in her chair, amazed and outraged. "The risks are too great. We can't let you get hurt even worse than did."

"But..." Erin started to object, but the manager cut her off.

"And, age catches up with everyone, Erin. I was a fool to think you would be able to play for four years without getting seriously hurt."

Erin felt as though she'd run into an invisible brick wall at full speed. "But I can play!" she countered. "I'm still as good as any of them out there. So before I got hurt you were all up and for it for me to do anything now, right? And after one mistake I made, you're not? What type of bullshit is this?" Mister Quinn looked quite astonished at Erin's language. "You think I'm ready to accept whatever you've got coming on the whim? Damn's got your strings crossed, I hope, 'cause that's just stupid. And who'd you find to replace me? It's not far stretch to see that none of the players like the reserve Beater. It'd just be another few weeks before you're begging this man here," she jerked her thumb at mister Quinn, "to allow me to come back. I don't want to go through it several hundred times. It's not because I'm some older _woman_, now is it? I'm just as good as any of them out there."

Bates smiled. "We know, kid," he grunted. "And quit using circular logic. You're making my head swim. None of us here have doubted your ability. It's your age we're doubting." Erin scowled. "Hey, don't think ill of it. I'm what, fifty two, and have two grandkids. Would you want grandkids when you're barely into retirement? Wonderful tykes, them, but it's like having kids again. None of us are as young as we used to."

"I still don't like it," Erin shot back, although quite a bit more calm after she'd unleashed her tirade. "I hated not being able to play down in Australia, and it'd be worse if I had to retire now. I'd not be able to play again. I can't do that! Curing werewolves for three years was enough!"

"No one's saying we'll send you back to the insane asylum, kiddo. We're just trying to say that it's your choice but we _highly_ recommend you to retire and save your skin while you still live in it." Bates grinned. "Did you hear? Ode said he'll retire after the season's out. Said he thought Australia was going to the dogs."

"Yeah, but Ode's Ode and Australia's Down Under! We're not talking about Australia, Ode, or anything even in the Southern Hemisphere. It's here and now what we're talking about."

The small group sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before mister Quinn coughed daintily. "Erin," he said, "Hawthorne is right. We don't want to see you leave the League, but we all think it's for your own benefit. There are other options after you retire besides working for St. Mungo's. I'm sure that I could find a job at the State House for someone of your talent."

"Yeah, well I'd much rather play Quidditch," Erin spat in response, rather rudely. Mister Quinn grew quiet. "I don't think any of you understand. I _need_ to play Quidditch."

The manager sighed. "Bates, why don't you say what you told me," he prompted.

Bates nodded. "Erin, I think I've got the perfect job for you." A dark glare proceeded to grow across Erin's face. "And that look you're giving me," Bates commented with a laugh, "would fit right in." He smiled to see Erin's eyebrows contract in confusion. "I want to give you my job as head coach," he said. "My wife is earbashing my ear all day, all night, about me being away from home too much in retirement. She has this idea that I was supposed to be home 24/7." He snorted. "I think you be a much better leader than me anyway. With you're experience, I'd be surprised if they didn't offer you the job in Russia."

Erin sat in stunned silence. "I don't think I could do it," she responded stubbornly. "And I don't want to. What's the point of being at a Quidditch pitch if I can't play?"

Bates groaned in frustration and stood up, surprising both mister Quinn and the manager. He looked over at Erin sharply. "Erin you're just being difficult," he accused.

"Am not!" Erin retorted and crossed her arms.

Mister Quinn sighed and rose. "I think he has a point, Miss Langhart." Inwardly, Erin shuddered. _Damn, I hate that name. It _always_ makes it seem like I'm some dirty old hag or something._

"Fine." She gave in, somewhat intimidated by mister Quinn. "I'll give the offer some thought tonight. And if you don't mind, I'd like to return to the pitch so I can work with the team, incase I _don't_ like the idea." She nodded curtly to the three men in the room and stalked off.

When she was gone, Bates broke into an enormous grin. "We've got her!" he cried.

"Do you really think so?" mister Quinn asked. "I think she'd rather play on the field, and as far as the Council goes, we'd like to see her play."

He was silenced by a severe look from Bates. "I've watched her battle all sorts of problems, and damnit if I don't know when we've got her," he said. "I'll have to say though, if you have any position open as a part-time bench coach, I'd be interested."

The manager smiled. "I would love it if you convinced your wife that you should continue to coach." A quiver went down the fat man's back. "But as much as I'd like to see you stick around, I wouldn't fancy facing your wife again when she's mad."

Bates laughed. "Me neither," he smirked. "Actually, that's part of the reason this job's so nice." All three men in the office broke into laughter.

When Erin returned to the Headquarters mid-afternoon, she was tired, disgruntled, and sore all over after not practicing for almost a month. Tonks was seated at the kitchen table with a massive bowl of tomato soup and Children of Dune propped up next to it. She smiled and looked up when she heard Erin deposit her broom and gauntlets on the tabletop.

"How'd it go?" Tonks asked. Erin noticed her hair was not nearly as abstract in color as it normally was.

"Fine; I'm a bit sore though," Erin grimaced and moved to sit down. "What's with the hair color? Didn't like Yank green?"

Tonks snorted and closed her book. "Naw," she shrugged, "just Snape stopped yelling at me, so obviously I had to change it."

_But you changed it to a _normal_ color_. Erin decided that it wasn't worth talking about. "Hmm." Erin began to unbuckle her arm guards. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What do you think about me becoming a coach?"

Tonks looked up from a spoonful of tomato soup, eyes wide. "That's awesome!" she exclaimed after she'd successfully swallowed. "Heck, I'd take the job as a coach over a player any day."

Erin smoothed her hair out of her face. "You would?" she asked. "Why?"

"Dunno," Tonks responded blandly. "Just sounds fun, huh? You know, ordering people around all the time. I think I'd have a blast."

Erin grinned. "Yeah, probably," she agreed and leaned back in her chair, thinking. Tonks resumed slurping up her soup enthusiastically. They sat for a few minutes in silence, excluding Tonks' noisy eating, until two people burst through the kitchen door.

"Severus, Lupin?" Tonks asked, jumping at their sudden appearance and spilling tomato soup all down her front. "Shit. _Scorgify!_" Some of the red mess on her shirt disappeared. She snarled and looked back up at them. Lupin was watching expectantly, as Snape was...Well, Erin wasn't quite sure _what_ he was doing. He looked like he was smiling. Erin rolled her eyes. _Snape doesn't smile_, she reminded herself. _That was stupid._ "What're you doing here...together...in the same room? I'm surprised that one of you hasn't killed the other." Erin saw Snape's face twist into malicious regret. She smirked, imagining them dueling. She wasn't quite sure who would win. Lupin sighed and began to speak, but was prevented when Snape started before him.

"Dumbledore gave us orders not to..." Snape grumbled.

Lupin cut him off. "We were at a meeting with Dumbledore at Hogwarts," he explained quickly. "Something urgent came up with Voldemort."

Tonks raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh," she asked, "and what was that?"

Lupin's eyes shifted over the two of them nervously. "I don't want to say," he finally said. "You wouldn't understand."

"Yeah, right," Tonks mumbled. Lupin sighed again, this time annoyed. "Being a auror and all doesn't make me able to understand a thing, now does it?" She dropped her spoon in her bowl and sank back into her chair.

Lupin pursed his lips in frustration. "Tonks," he warned. Erin watched Snape sidle from the room and up the kitchen stairs. Neither Lupin nor Tonks had noticed.

Tonks glowered as she slumped in her chair, turning the cold shoulder Lupin's direction. "I'm never asked to go along to special meetings," she complained.

"Yes, you are," Lupin growled, rolling his eyes. "You were invited to that meeting last week about protection around Hogwarts. Then the other one about the sighting of Anton Dolohov." Lupin pursed his lips. "And then..."

"You're making half those up," Tonks accused, still glum. "They probably forget me because I'm clumsy, or something. 'Cause I'm a woman, or..."

Lupin clenched the back of a chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Tonks!" Lupin roared, furious. Erin was taken aback; she'd never seen Lupin angry before, or at least to this level. "Do you think I would withhold information from you for an inane reason like that?" Tonks glared back at Lupin, only provoking him more. He wrenched his grip away from the chair and slammed a fist onto the table top; the noise made both Tonks and Erin jump. "Of course I wouldn't! There are strict orders that both Severus and I must follow. If all goes well, you'll know about it by the end!" Lupin glanced distractedly around for Snape. "Does that not satisfy you, Tonks?" _Tonks certainly has a way with making people upset with her_, Erin noticed. _Bet she's proud of it too_.

"No," Tonks replied stiffly, very astonished by Lupin's outburst as well. "It doesn't. But I'll live with your explanation for the time being. Still, I don't get why I wasn't requested to be there."

Lupin calmed down for a second. "Because this is a very secretive matter we're dealing with." Lupin groaned and thrust his hands into the thin pockets of his overcoat self-consciously. "I'm going upstairs before you get me to explode like that again." He stalked up the stairs muttering to himself.

Erin sighed, pushed away from the table, and stood up. "Hey, I'll catch up with you later, got it?" Tonks nodded and proceeded to finish her soup. "Great." Erin scooped up her Quidditch equipment and followed Lupin's path. She quickly deposited her stuff in her room and then made her way to where she thought Lupin's room was.

His room was located at the end of the hall that Erin's was on. Erin stopped a few strides before his open door and watched him pace around his room. He was clearly bothered about something, but Erin doubted if it were Tonks' performance. Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards his doorframe and knocked on it gently.

Lupin spun around at the sound. "Hey, Erin," he greeted dully when he saw it was her. "Come in."

It was a little odd to be in a room that Erin only remembered from a dream. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu came over Erin as she noticed the window where the light had sneaked through and the medicine cabinet that Lupin had just barely gotten to before he'd transformed.

"What would you like?" Lupin asked evenly, although Erin suspected that he was not as calm as he appeared to be.

Erin shrugged. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Lupin answered sharply.

Erin raised her eyebrows. "Really?" Lupin groaned again in frustration.

"Nothing you could help," he spat tiredly. "I'm not angry with you, but..." He trailed off. "It's a lot less complicated for everyone if we leave what's bothering me unsaid."

Erin nodded. "Yeah, I understand how you feel, I think," she added at his sour look. "Anyway, I've got a few questions to ask you."

Lupin smiled and lay down on his bed, back facing her. "Shoot," he smiled, the fatigue still very present on his voice. "But sit down." He gestured to the rest of the bed.

Erin walked around the bed, sat, hesitatingly, and took a deep breath to calm herself as her heartbeat raced in her veins. _Shit,_ she thought as she felt the heat rise into her face when he arched his neck up to look at her. She stared at her knees. _I'm just his friend_, she told herself. _I don't want to be anything more._ She blinked in confusion. _Whoa, where'd those thoughts come from? This is weird._ Lupin's low chuckle brought her back to her senses. "Did you intend to keep me on the edge of my seat this long?" Erin bit her lip and glanced down at him. His eyes were twinkling with laughter as he spun what looked to be a Sickle between his fingers.

"No, I...I just..." she stammered, tongue-tied for the first time in her life. He grinned absentmindedly. "They want me to coach," she finally said, feeling it was best to just dismiss her thoughts all together. Lupin looked mildly surprised. "What do you think?"

"What do _you_ think?" he asked.

Erin sneered in annoyance. "I want to play Quidditch, but they do have a point. You know," she said at Lupin's absent look, "if I get hit again. I may not be able to play."

"Ah."

"But I don't want to end what I've got going right in the middle of a season...or at all, really." Erin sighed and rubbed her eyes, realizing just how tired she was. "I know I should, but I'm not strong enough to convince myself. I thought you could," she snorted, "since you're always trying to get me to stop playing anyway."

"I am not," he retorted and propped himself up on his elbows. "Talk some more," he told Erin. "I think you can work it out by yourself."

"Yeah, but I don't want to," Erin whined. "I've already said everything that I've thought about." Lupin laughed. "So?"

"So you obviously haven't given it very much thought," he noticed. Erin rolled her eyes. "Erin," Lupin sighed and heaved himself up to a sitting position, "why should I make your decisions?" Erin shrugged and looked back down at her knees. "I think you just want me to say what you want to hear."

"I do not!"

"Well, either way I still have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, don't I?" Lupin chided. Erin grumbled. "Okay, okay," Lupin smirked as she scowled. "I think you should take the coaching job." Erin looked up, as if she was thinking of arguing. "But that's just because I don't want to see you hurt like that again; you almost didn't come through."

"Yeah, well, don't you think it'd be boring coaching?" Erin wondered.

"Of course," Lupin replied, "compared to actually playing in the game. But thirty three..."

"One," Erin said through gritted teeth.

Lupin hid a grin. "Excuse me. Even thirty _one_ is old to be playing as a Beater. Ludo Bagman, the star Beater in England, retired when he was only twenty-five. I'd say you've almost lapped him."

Erin leaned back on her arms, pondering. "Yeah," she continued finally, after a minute's or so silence, "but I'd have so much time to myself. I'd go crazy." She turned to Lupin. "Don't you think?" He nodded once, but his mind was obviously preoccupied with something else. "And who would fill my spot?" she asked. "Nobody on the Welsh team likes the reserve Beater."

"They could probably find someone else quickly," Lupin guessed.

"But right before the World Cup?" Erin demanded. "They couldn't possibly find someone that quickly who's good enough." Lupin sighed. Erin glanced over at him. He was playing with the Sickle-like coin again. "What's that?"

Lupin looked up sharply and closed his fist around the coin quickly. "It's nothing," he said.

"What is it, Lupin?"

"I told you, it's nothing."

"And Severus will agree to wear pink to all Order meetings."

Lupin sighed. "It's a device for calling DA meetings," he muttered. "I found it in Sirius's stuff."

Erin's heart took an involuntarily plunge as she heard the words. A wave of sympathy rushed over her. So Lupin was still thinking about Sirius. Who wouldn't still think about their best friend? "I'm sorry mate," she whispered, rubbing a hand over Lupin's shoulder. "I didn't realize..."

"Never mind that." An uncomfortable silence began...and stayed a long time. After awhile, Erin looked at the clock mounted on Lupin's wall and saw she'd been there for almost twenty minutes. Lupin sighed again, making Erin look his direction. He'd laid down on the bed and was in the process of falling asleep. She grinned to herself and made to stand up.

"Don't go," Lupin whispered, half awake. Erin closed her eyes, forcing a new wave of unwanted thoughts from her mind. Quietly, as to not disturb him, she turned and smoothed his bangs from his face. Lupin's hand caught hers, but the rest of him didn't move. His eyes remained closed. Veiling a smile, she leaned over and gently kissed him on the cheek. Without another moment's pause, she stood up and left his room, only slightly less confused that she had been when she'd entered.


	18. An Old Friend

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: An Old Friend**

"Oy, Erin!"

Erin sat up sleepily and rubbed her eyes. Bright morning light pierced through her bedroom curtains. Running a hand through her hair, she stared groggily around the room. The sight of bright white hair made her blink profusely.

Tonks beamed at her. "Hey!"

"Hi," Erin mumbled and yawned. "Nice new hair do. Like it. What are you doing up...whoa!" Erin flung her covers off her and jumped out of bed, startling Tonks. "Heck, how'd I oversleep that long?" She raced frantically around her room, trying to gather up her Quidditch equipment she'd dumped messily the afternoon before. "It must be..." She paused for a second to look up at the clock above her door. "Ah, damn. Nine already?" She hastily pulled on a robe and her shoulder pads.

"Calm down, mate!" Tonks laughed as she made her way slowly over to where Erin stood. "Relax." She put a hand on Erin's shoulder. "Now. Breath with me. In...and out. And in...and out..."

"Shut up, Tonks!" Erin cried as she shrugged Tonks' hand off her shoulder. "And quit acting like a moron!"

"Erin," Tonks warned, "breath with me." Erin rolled her eyes and began to struggle into her over robe. "Come on, mate, loosen up, why don't you?" Tonks suddenly looked confused as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Did I forget to tell you that you have the day off?"

Erin stopped mid way through lacing up her boots. "What?"

"Ha, ha! That's right, I did! Oops." Erin looked as though she could have strangled Tonks quite happily. "Anyway. Bates told Cevin not to bring you today. He wanted you to think about his deal an extra day."

"Oh, is that right?" Erin grumbled as she began to take off her Quidditch garb. "And how do you know about the whole deal?"

Tonks shrugged and took the arm guard that Erin shoved at her. "Lupin was talking about it at breakfast this s'morning. Oh, and by the way, Molly says you'll have to get something in town for breakfast. She had to go somewhere today; don't rightly know where." Tonks sighed comfortably and flopped down on Erin's bed.

"Why do I have to go into town today?" Erin asked as she looked around the room for a clean robe.

"Somebody wanted to see you," Tonks answered readily as she tried to put Erin's arm brace on. "He lives in England, or at least that's where his address is. Funny, isn't it? He goes by the name of Knars. Do you pronounce it ka-nars or just nars?"

Erin found a dark green robe from her wardrobe and pulled it on. "Nars," she replied. "Wait, Alan Knars?" Tonks shrugged. "Oh, you're a real help today, now aren't you?"

"Better believe it."

"Well," Erin said tiredly, "I'd probably best be off." Tonks nodded, still struggling with the arm guard. "What _are_ you doing?" she asked when she caught sight of Tonks' endeavors.

"Just trying to get this infernal thing on," Tonks grunted as she tried to strap it together with only one hand. "How'd you do this every day so quickly? You must be blery ampadexterious or something."

"Maybe," Erin dismissed as she made her way to the door. "Or maybe I'm just really good at putting Quidditch equipment on. One or the other." She opened the door. "Nonetheless, it's probably because I don't normally put them on backwards."

Tonks looked up. "What!"

"Catch you later." Erin smiled at Tonks' look of confusion and slipped out the door.

"Erin! Get back here and help me!" Tonks yelled and rushed to try and catch her. Erin was already gone from sight and her footsteps barely heard skidding out of the kitchen.

* * *

"Number 6A, Farthing road," Erin whispered to herself as she paced through the flat corridors in a large apartment complex located in the heart of London. "Well, I'm bloody on Farthing road, been there for the last half hour, but where the heck it '6A'?" She scanned the door numbers around hers quickly. "5A, 5B, 5C, 6B...Where is it?" She walked a few more paces. "I'm beginning to think that this place doesn't exist. Ah, shoot. What a waste of time." She turned to her right and quite miraculously, a door appeared between 5C and 6B. "Six A?" Erin wondered aloud. "That's weird." It opened.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Erin," Alan Knars greeted. "Do come in." He moved aside to let Erin pass. "So, how are things going with you now?" he asked once she was inside and seated in his lounge. "I was extremely impressed you got back into Quidditch, but I'm glad I haven't had to play against you."

Erin grinned and watched her mentor carefully. "It's been going great, up till yesterday," she answered. His hair was a lot grayer than she remembered it and he seemed worn. "Yeah. The Welsh team's really awesome to be a part of; it's really different from Australia." Alan pursed his lips and ran a twisted hand through his thinning hair. "How's life treating you, sir?" Erin inwardly laughed as she instantly adopted the formal way of speaking to him only she could get away with.

He smiled as he noticed it too. "I've been doing fairly well," he replied, "but Australia's not." He shook his head in disgust. "Ever since we traded Maxx and since Davids disappeared the team's never been the same."

"Gene disappeared?" Erin gasped in shock. _Well, come on, fool_, her conscious told her, _what do you think Luka was going to do with them under in Imperious Charm? Use your brain. They're probably long dead._ Erin gulped. Alan nodded. "I kind of got the feeling when she stopped writing."

"It was a jolt realization for the whole team. People are scared to live down there. Even the Muggles know something is wrong." Alan leaned back in his chair and viewed her scrupulously. "I'm glad you made it out of there when you did. There have been massacres of whole towns all in one night. They leave no survivors. No one has seen what does it." He closed his eyes. "It's like the infamous You-Know-Who that's up here, but this one has no systematic killing."

"Let's not talk about it," Erin offered. Alan nodded. _That's what is wrong with him_, Erin realized, _he's been traumatized. Something's got to him...made him age prematurely. He can't be older than Lupin or Severus, can he?_ "Are you still playing Quidditch, sir, or have you retired?"

Alan broke out laughing and Erin remembered how much she like it when she was able to make him smile or laugh. "No," he chuckled. "I'm not there yet. As of now, I'm a free agent just trying to make a living in a hostile world." He looked around the lounge, still grinning slightly. "Bates wrote me a week or so ago. He said that you had something to talk about."

Erin ground her teeth, inwardly fuming. "He did, did he? Ah, he would."

Alan held up a hand as another wide grin spread across his face. "Now, don't say anything bad about Hawthorne," he cautioned. "He and I go back a long ways."

"Yeah, he's a great mentor and all..." Erin snorted and winked at Alan. He smiled knowingly and watched her with fascination, as a father meeting their freshly graduated college student would. Erin shrugged. "Not nearly as good as you, sir. But honestly. Do you know about our game versus Japan?" Alan nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Well, so I got a bit beat up, you know, but that's what Beater do. We run into things. Normally it's not something as extreme as a bolt of lightning but," she added with a grin, "you've got to give me some slack."

"I see that smile on your face, you fox," Alan teased, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "But I think it's predominately _you_ that run into things. I don't know if I've run into anything other than opposing players."

Erin scowled. "But, sir, you're just phenomenal; what can we say?" She grinned as Alan's face darkened with her sarcasm. "Sorry." Erin didn't stay distracted for long. She leaned back in her arm chair and lightly dropped her fist into the plush arm. "Anyway, now they want me to quit Quidditch because I spent a little too long in rehab. Can you believe it! I mean, it was only a month. It's not like I'm going to be that out of shape!"

"You know, Erin, you're giving me a very one-sided commentary," Alan noted. "Bates outlined several good reasons as to not have you play."

Erin's scowl darkened. "Oh, now you're going to go siding with him now, are you?"

Alan held his hands open innocently, but Erin could see the concern behind his playful smile. "Naturally, Erin," he replied. "I would rather see you alive and well than not alive and not so well."

"Well there's one way to look at it," she muttered and stared at the various Quidditch awards carefully placed along the top of a shelf. She identified half of them, they were the same she had in her room at the Order, and puzzled over the others. She drew a deep breath and finally continued. "But look, Alan, so let's pretend that I do decide to quit Beater. Who would take my place for the final games? You?"

Alan tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I wasn't planning on it."

Erin threw her hands up in exasperation. "It was a bloody example, Knars!" she cried. "Besides, you would hate it; Narthing is on the team." Both veterans of the New Zealand game took a moment to shudder. "I don't know how I deal with it day to day. He's a bit more of a prat than he was." _Of course he doesn't know what Narthing's like on a social level,_ Erin reminded herself. _Thank god._

"I could talk to Bates," Alan said, mostly to himself. "However, the most important thing right now is for you to stay safe."

Erin's brow knotted. _What's everyone talking about that I don't know. Me stay safe? Bloody hell, don't they think I can ride a broom?_ "Okay, sure, but what about you then?" Erin wondered. "You're even older than me! How're they supposed to justify getting rid of me and taking on you?" Alan put his palms on his knees and stood up. For a moment, he didn't say anything, as if he were lost in deep thought. Erin watched his tall figure hesitate before turning around to face her.

"The only thing different between us, Erin," he whispered, "is no one is looking for me."

Erin eyes narrowed. "What?" she asked. "Who's looking for me?"

"That's the thing, Erin, no one knows," he answered. "I came up here because I had to tell Dumbledore about the talk I've been hearing on the streets in Sydney. Rumor has it that you're going to be brought back there, Erin. Back to whoever the leader is."

Erin snorted. _Back to Luka? Over my dead body. But that's probably the idea. Hmmm._ "All the way from here, sir?" She grinned. "I think I'm as safe here as I can get."

"You're a lot safer here than you would be back there," he agreed. "But one can't be too cautious with a situation like this."

Erin cocked her head to one side, thinking. "Hold on a sec. How do you know Dumbledore?" she asked. "I've been here almost a year and still I've only met him like four times. It's like everyone knows who Dumbledore is."

"I used to live in England, Erin," Alan answered, "when I was a boy. I went to Hogwarts when he was the new Transfiguration professor. It's not a very large stretch to see that I would know him. I saw him almost every day; I don't think he'll ever forgive me for the trouble I caused." Alan raised an eyebrow and smirked. "But come, Erin. I can talk to Bates about it. You stay at the Headquarters."

"Wait on," Erin breathed, now also standing. She peered suspiciously at Alan. "How do you know about the Headquarters now?" Alan's smirk disappeared. "I dunno. First I find out that Cevin Harrow's in the Order, and now you? Why the hell does Dumbledore keep all of these connections in Australia?"

Alan didn't answer immediately. "Cevin is in the Order?" he asked after a moment. Erin nodded without thinking much of it. "How?"

"I don't know," Erin dismissed, walking around Alan to get a better look at his trophies. She was unexpectedly acutely wary of the world she was living in and the seemingly false security it presented. "It's not up to me to decide who's in it and who's not. Anyway, why does Dumbledore have Australian connections? It's not like what's going on down there is going to effect the people up here before Voldemort does." Alan cringed slightly. "Come on," Erin said when she noticed, "you're not on that too."

"His name has been feared longer than I can remember," he told her icily. "I don't really think it's my fault." Harrow walked over to Erin's side and reviewed his awards. He nervously twisted his hands together as his eyes flicked from one trophy to the next. "Cevin doesn't come from Australia," Alan whispered as he stared at the ceiling.

"What are you talking about?"

"From what I've heard, Cevin's the black sheep of the Harrow family. Ode doesn't speak very highly of him, of course, that's if he talks about his family. Cevin's parents moved away from Australia when he was very little. They joined a Dark wizard organization in America and sent him to boarding school in South Africa." Alan rubbed his chin as he reflected. "They both committed suicide the year before he got out of school. Dumbledore recruited him last year; he informed me when he did."

Erin furrowed her brow. _A Dark wizard organization?_ Cevin suddenly didn't seem as easy to read as he had. He didn't seem as harmless. "So we should watch out for him then? He's not what he seems?"

"Right," Alan sniffed. "But that's what all of the Harrow family is."

Erin backed away from the trophy shelf and bowed slightly. "I really should be going," she remarked.

"Back to the Headquarters, though," Alan reminded her, "to think more about Bates' idea. He's making quite a sacrifice for you, Langhart. It would do you well to be mindful of that."

"Yeah, yeah," Erin groaned. "I know. I'll get back, no worry, sir. And it's good to have you back where I can talk to you; I've found some people I can talk to, but none like I can talk to you."

Alan smiled gratefully. "I'm glad to laugh again, Erin," he grinned. "But consider everything. It may sound corny, but you can't judge a book by its cover. Look inside first." Erin gave a sharp nod and quickly trod out of his apartment. The door 6A melted into the wall as she closed it.


	19. Cevin Backstage

**CHAPTER NINETEEN: Cevin Backstage**

Slowly, summer faded to fall and the Hogwarts students were back to school. The Headquarters became increasingly less interesting for Erin, who doubted Bates' proposal more by the day. She'd been given a week to consider the offer, but she was now on her third. The final rounds for determining the contenders for the Quidditch World Cup were just around the bend.

Alan Knars had had no luck so far in convincing Bates and the manager of the Welsh International Club that they should hire him in Erin's stead. He was too old, they said, and was just as likely to get hurt as Erin. Both Erin and he decided something drastic would have to happen if Bates was to get his way and Alan his. Either that or Bates would have to come to realize that the only way Alan was as likely to get hurt as Erin was if he were to loose a limb and have a seizure, at the same time.

Sometime around the first week of October, Alan Knars dropped unexpectedly by the Headquarters with Dumbledore beside him. Erin had been enjoying the random insanity of the _Quibbler_ in the library while drinking a hot cup of her favorite Australian tea.

Dumbledore knocked on the doorframe and stepped briskly in. "Good evening, Miss Langhart," he said cordially. "I hope I find you well." Erin nodded and stood up to shake his offered hand. "You don't mind if Alan and I have a small chat with you now, do you?"

"Oh, no, sir," Erin answered immediately. "And please, don't call me Miss Langhart. It makes me sound older than I really am."

Dumbledore smiled as he seated himself on the couch. "You've taken after Tonks considerably," he noted and then glanced up at his counterpart. "Alan, do sit down." Alan looked for a second like he was going to refuse. "No, don't try and convince me that you don't need to. I saw you practicing today, and at your age too!" He shook his head as Alan sat down quickly. Dumbledore returned his focus to Erin. "One can only hope Tonks' influence on you is positive."

Erin wasn't really listening. "What's that you said about Alan practicing?" she asked, setting her paper aside and sipping her mug. "Did Bates take you on?"

"Yes," he replied, very pleased. "It took Dumbledore to convince him and the manager, but we finally did it. They're giving me the remainder of your contract and planning to have you sign to their coaching job within next week. Sounds good, huh?" Erin grinned. "Oh, and by the way, you had one hell of a contract! Sheesh! They must have really wanted you bad to sign you to that much."

"Yeah," Erin agreed offhandedly, "but, at least we've got a good Beater covering for me," she said, "instead of a really horrible one. That's one thing we've got going for us."

"The Welsh Club is surprisingly better..." Alan was cut off mid-sentence by Snape bursting down the hall. The potion master barely caught himself on the library's door jam.

Dumbledore stood up immediately. "Severus, what's wrong?" he asked sternly, eyes alert.

Snape took a moment to recover his breath before he stood up properly and began to speak in short, wheezing phrases. "I...just got back from...a meeting," he said softly, trying to hold himself up. Alan and Erin rose quietly as he sucked in more air. "The Dark...Lord. He...gggot Macnair an...and...Avery to attack...a...a...Ministry patrol...squad." He looked up at Dumbledore with bloodshot eyes. "They...have...have Tonks."

Dumbledore sprang into action. "Does anyone else know about this, Severus?" he asked quickly, pulling Snape off the door jam and helping him find a seat on the couch. With a wave of his wand, a large pitcher of water and a glass was summoned from the kitchen.

"No," Snape gasped as he poured himself a glass. "No one in the Order would know about it. They would not suspect it if we..." He gulped down a huge amount of water. Erin felt like telling him he would be sick if he didn't watch himself, but there were more important matters at hand. And it was Snape.

Dumbledore stood quietly in thought for a moment. "Round up what people are already present," he decided finally, walking towards the door. "We cannot keep Tonks waiting for long; Voldemort surely knows we wouldn't risk losing her."

Erin stepped forward. "It's probably a trap of some sort, sir," she said looking at everyone in the room in turn. "To lure someone that they want to catch." The three men looked at each other silently. "I can round everyone up here. Where do you want to meet.?"

"You are not going to go anywhere, Erin," Dumbledore corrected quietly. "You will stay here."

Erin subconsciously dropped her jaw in amazement. "What?" she asked with a mixture of anger and surprise. "You can't ask me to just wait here while my best friend is held hostage by a group of murders! That's bloody..."

Erin was silenced by a cold glance from Dumbledore. "No one was asking you anything," he said simply, not facing her. "It was an order, and I do suggest you heed it. Not for my sake or anyone else's, but for yours. Now, Severus, once you've caught your breath, please round up what Order members you can and tell them to meet at Alastor's house." Snape nodded sulkily and set down his water glass. "Good. Alan, if you will please follow me, we will go to the Ministry and find all the available Order members we can." He looked around the room at everyone, pausing when he got to Erin. "Then I will go." His eyes twinkled once as he left with Alan in tow.

Snape stood up. "You're staying here," he said dully, "right." It wasn't a question. Erin knew the tone of voice. It was Snape's you'd-better-do-as-I-say-or-there-will-be-hell-to-pay voice.

"Yes, Snape," Erin groaned and picked up the _Quibbler_ again. "Dumbledore already told me. You don't have to repeat everything he says just to feel important." Snape's lip curled and he stalked out of the room.

"Well, Snape?" Voldemort snapped as soon as he saw Snape had returned to the group of Death Eaters surrounding him. "What is happening?"

Snape bowed at the waist. "They will come, my lord," he assured in a cold voice. A thin man wrapped in a thick, red cloak appeared from behind his master. Snape glared at him. "You will see."

The glowing red eyes scanned the sky constantly. "I sincerely hope so, for your sake," Voldemort answered and turned towards the center of his Death Eater circle. He looked around and saw Tonks held by two of his servants. She was unconscious. Snape saw her as well. "You see, Severus," Voldemort hissed, "Rodolphus is able to capture her easily, and you have been working at it for months." He turned away from Snape with a sneer. "Bind her to a tree," he ordered and glanced once more back to the darkening skies. "Set a heavy guard around her, but once they come, don't make it overly difficult to get to her. We only need to deal with the least amount of them as we can. If we have too many, we will falter and Dumbledore will succeed again."

Rodolphus Lestrange stepped up next to his master. "My lord, everything is set. We only have to wait for their arrival."

"Good," Voldemort whispered, and pointed to the center of the Death Eater circle. A huge fire sprang out of the earth, lighting the surrounding bare trees with a flickering light. Calling over his shoulder, he said, "Everyone to their posts! Rockwood, Wormtail, Avery, Macnair, and Crabbe stay in the circle and guard the auror. Leave when I do." Voldemort looked from Rodolphus to the tall man on his left. "Lestrange, follow me." He abruptly stepped away from the firelight, waiting for Malfoy to follow him. "I don't want this to fail."

Rodolphus bowed low and watched his master circle him calmly. A slight breeze caught Lestrange's hair, blowing it out of its perfect alignment. "My lord, we have Snape at every turn. He cannot escape us."

Voldemort nodded, pleased, and stopped before Lestrange, standing between him and the bonfire. The light outlined Voldemort. "You will knock him out and bring him to my father's grave, understand?" Rodolphus bowed a second time. "Very well. I don't want anyone to know." Rodolphus inclined his head and took leave of his master, moving stealthily behind a bush.

"You are not wise to try and kill Dumbledore," the man in red sighed as he approached Voldemort. "He will come with a posse; you have no chance of success." Voldemort glared at the man. "This bate," he looked over his shoulder to where Tonks was tied loosely to a tree, "is insignificant. She will not draw Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore cares for every one of the members of his _order_. That is why he is weak," Voldemort spat. "You had best follow Rodolphus. You don't want to be caught here, do you?"

The man straightened. "That would never happen, my lord," he said calmly, but nonetheless backed away. "You forget, I was trained by Luka, and Luka never makes mistakes." His figure blended into the blackness of the flickering forest.

Voldemort, scathing, flicked his wand and built their fire to an even greater height. "So sorry to keep you in the dark," he whispered. "You will soon understand." Something itched behind his eyes. A warning began in his mind. "They're coming," he said coldly. "Deceive them; form a tight circle near the auror." His visible followers did so. "And now," he told them quietly, "we wait for them to test the bait. Draw your wands."

Eleven people appeared on the opposite side to the fire with a blinding flash of light. Voldemort jerked up, pretending to be surprised as Dumbledore and Moody took a step forward. He brought his wand up to dueling stance. Let them think he was going to fight.

"Tom, you have been a fool," Dumbledore said serenely. "Hand over Tonks now."

"You and your arrogant ways, Dumbledore, won't make me concede to anything you order," Voldemort challenged. The Death Eaters backed away, surrounding Tonks. "Fight us, I dare you."

"What dare is that?" Moody laughed. "Coming from you, pea brains, it's not very intimidating." His good eye looked up at Dumbledore. "I don't want to wait around for him to finish his crap. Let's get her now, before they pack up and move again, cowards," he added under his breath. "See you in hell, Voldemort. I hear it's quite nice, once you get used to it. Of course, I won't ever know, will I? _Incarcerous!_" Ropes flew out of Moody's wand towards Voldemort but stopped and fell to the ground half way. The other Order members stepped up to help.

Dumbledore took over fighting Voldemort and Moody began to engage in a spectacular duel with Avery. Mr. Weasley, who was next in the procession, easily beat Crabbe to the ground while Kingsley had much more difficult with Rockwood. A sandy haired man named Podmore attacked Macnair and Wormtail at the same time as the five remaining Order members doubled up. The battle looked won, until the rest of Voldemort's supporters appeared from the shadows. Suddenly, the Order members, who had been fighting at a two to one ratio, were now facing improbable odds.

In the din of all the confusion, Rodolphus stole carefully behind Snape as Snape and Rastaban Lestrange became locked in combat with Kingsley. With a quick swish of his wand, Snape sunk to the floor unconscious. Before anyone was able to see what happened, or make anything about it if they had, Rodolphus and Snape disappeared. Voldemort had seen though. Carefully, he made eye contact with all of his followers. One by one, they fled, Voldemort being the first. At last, the Order members were given a free path to Tonks.

"Here she comes," Podmore said as he carefully cut Tonks' bonds and caught her before she could fall to the ground. "That was a nasty trick they pulled on us."

"It was," Dumbledore agreed as he knelt down beside Tonks and felt her head. He looked up slowly. "She's in fine condition, perhaps just a bit shocked. We should get her back to the Headquarters as soon as possible. Molly, are you available?"

"Of course I am," Molly said as she stepped forward. "I can take her there at once, if you would like."

Dumbledore nodded and stood up. "That would be excellent. Now, Sturgis, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you to accompany Molly. Would you mind?" Podmore shook his head and shifted Tonks' weight in his arms.

Moody scanned the scene with his electric blue eye. "Where's that bastard Snape?" he grunted, normal eye fixed on Dumbledore. "Didn't he come in with us?"

"He left before we did to warn Voldemort of our arrival," Dumbledore explained. "He must appear to serve both of us at once. He will return."

Moody scowled. I don't trust the bastard and I don't know why," he growled resignedly. "I just don't know."

"_Ennervate!_" Voldemort whispered and pointed his wand at Snape's still body. It slowly began to move. "Snape," the Dark Lord commanded, "rise now!"

Snape sighed and rose obediently to his feet. "What do you wish of me, master?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his head. A new scab was forming over an open cut on his brow.

"You are a fool, Snape," Voldemort snapped, keeping his wand in the open air. "I thought I could trust you, but you have proved to me again you aren't worthy of my trust." Voldemort stooped and brought his face even with Snape's. "I told you just to bring Dumbledore."

"I had to find Dumbledore, my lord. He wasn't at Hogwarts like I expected! He was at the Order of Phoenix. I expected you already knew I was in Dumbledore's Order," Snape coughed and immediately regretted it. "I mean..."

Voldemort looked pleased. "You aren't your normal self today, Severus," he chided. "What happened to my loyal servant that swore only to serve me? Perhaps a dose of pain will re-teach you my lessons?"

Snape took a step forward. "Let me explain, my lord," he whimpered, holding his head. _Something is seriously not right,_ he noticed. _I shouldn't be reacting like this..._ Then Snape tasted the foulness on his tongue. _Vertalism. I should have known_. He was at a loss. Snape knew he would have to confess everything now.

"Then do explain, my servant," Voldemort prodded. "It may yet save you your life."

"I joined the Order of Phoenix as an added precaution if you ever came back," Snape's voice said dully, but his mind was in turmoil. "I knew I wouldn't be welcomed, so I sought my refuge there. When you were reborn, I vowed to never serve either you or Dumbledore." _Oh, shit,_ Snape thought. _I definitely wasn't supposed to say that._ "The information you give to me...some of it goes to Dumbledore, but most of it doesn't. The information that he gives to me gets the same treatment."

Voldemort took a moment to reflect. In the end, he raised his wand. "Such is true, Severus, then I shall make my point as clear as yours." Voldemort's eyes glinted. "_Crucio!_" Snape dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. "You will do well to know that the only master you serve, Severus, is me and it will always be me. You entered my service willing, and so you shall leave it." Snape's face contorted into pain, and the cut on his brow began to gush blood again. "Your task will be the hardest yet, if you are to redeem yourself." Voldemort lifted his wand and Snape lay still in the grass, holding his head even tighter than before. "Stand up, Snape," Voldemort ordered. Slowly, Snape did rise, fumbling and bent double from his agony.

"It is not worth keeping his mudblood filth around, my lord," a mysterious man dressed in a flowing red robe said as he stepped forward unbidden. "He does not serve you, nor does he serve anyone but himself. A servant like that, my lord, is more dangerous than an enemy."

"I have my plans for him," Voldemort whispered, turning upon the man. "Perhaps a dose of pain would help you to keep your opinions to yourself!" He raised his wand.

The man backed down quickly. "I do not wish to create problems in a land I am unfamiliar with," he conceded, bowing. "My apologies."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, just barely enough to be noticeable, as his cruel grin lengthened. "They are accepted." The man in red took a step away from Voldemort, keeping his head inclined. "Do not leave my side," Voldemort ordered, beckoning the red cloaked man back to him.

There was a pause. "Yes, my lord," the man answered finally, the firelight catching his eyes. They glowed an unearthly gray. "I am ready to serve you as Luka bid me to."

Severus slowly began to awake; his mind and his body joined. The Vertalism was beginning to wear off. _And I've taken enough anecdotes in my life to kill the normal man_, he growled. He focused his attention on his master and the tall man in red. He'd never seen him before, but something was familiar. Something.

Then Voldemort's words suddenly became harsh. "You are wise, my friend," he sighed sarcastically. "And you have yet to understand your purpose." Voldemort began pacing again. Snape and the man in red's heads followed him. "I already know you are in Dumbledore's order," he whispered, talking to the man in red. "I already know you are aware that Erin Langhart is in the Order." The man in red bowed. "I would use you as an informant..."

"Always ready to serve you..." the man began, but was silenced by a piercing glare.

"But I do not trust you, or any of your kind," Voldemort continued, as though never having been interrupted. "You will therefore act as a guide to _my_ servant, teaching them they ways of the Order." The man in red bowed and Voldemort returned his attention to where Snape was watching all of this with a keen ear. "You, my slippery friend, shall not accompany him back to the Order. You will stay here with me."

_This was a plot?_ Snape realized with dawning comprehension. _They seek to replace me!_ "My duty is to you, my lord," Snape sneered, still working through what he had heard. He had to remember all of it. "And it is best served where I can be close to Potter and Dumbledore."

Voldemort smiled evilly. "You have lost my trust," he said, not at all surprised the Vertalism had worn off. "I suggest you do not speak again."

The man in red advanced suddenly. "I do not know what you do with fools such as he," he barked, staring at Snape. Snape eyed him, maintaining a well-fixed sneer. "Were we in Australia with my lord we would kill him. He deserves to die." Snape's eyes flashed and he drew his wand, surprised to find that his challenger's wand had already been drawn. "When a man disregards his master, there is no ounce of truth left in him."

Snape lunged forward. "Call me a liar?"

The man in red laughed. "Oh, I would call you worse things than that." Snape threw himself at the man, cursing.

"Snape, stay away from him," Voldemort roared, although the tone of his voice suggested he would very much like to see the opposite. Again, his red eyes flashed in the dim light as he debated with himself. "I've lost my confidence in you, Severus," he said again. "I'm afraid there's not much you can do about your destiny." Snape watched as Voldemort drew his wand and pointed it directly at Snape's heart. He had no time to react. "_Stupefy!_" Snape slumped to the floor unconscious and Voldemort pocketed his wand.

"How do you plan on getting one of your servants into the Order or Phoenix?" the man asked once Snape had crumpled in the dust. "It was hard enough hiding my identity."

Voldemort sneered, sliding from his pocket a long, clear vial filled with off color slop. "By the use of the Polyjuice potion. I have tricked Dumbledore with it before; the old man does not realize when he has been fooled twice. This device is safe."

The man lifted his chin only slightly. "Then I will help get your servant in. He can only get in with me, though." With a sudden realization, the man in red held up his hand. "But be wary, use only your most trusted follower, because I warn you if he strays only slightly, this will fail and Dumbledore will be able to piece your plan together with much ease."

"I will go, my lord," Bella offered. "After all, whom do you have more loyal than myself?"

The man laughed wickedly. "I would not send a woman, my lord," he scoffed, staring down Bella. Her jaw set. "I have never found women to be apt at spending long periods of time pretending to be men. It would be risky."

"This is true."

"And I warn you further," the man said quietly. "If your servant strays, or is caught, there will be nothing that I can do to prevent whatever recourse from Dumbledore against him or you, my lord. Your follower would have to be as charismatic as he was crafty."

Voldemort tilted his head, thinking. "Rodolphus?" he called.

A tall man stepped out from the gathered Death Eater's ranks and walked briskly towards his master. "My lord?"

"Would you be up for acting as Severus? You are the only one of us who has been with Severus long enough to adequately reenact his demeanor."

Rodolphus Lestrange bowed at the waist. "I would be honored that you consider me worthy," he drawled and took the vial of Polyjuice that Voldemort handed to him, only half interested. "Will there be more sent with me? This is not sufficient to keep me as Snape for more than an afternoon."

"There is enough in there to last you half a day," Voldemort snapped. "You can brew more tonight; as I remember you are as apt of a potions master as Severus." He gracefully bent down over Snape's body and snapped a piece of hair out of his head. "Put this in there, Rodolphus, and don't forget to take the potion every hour on the hour." Rodolphus Lestrange nodded and dropped Snape's hair into the vial. He hesitated only slightly.

"If you will take the potion, sir, we'll be able to go much quicker," the man in red growled. "I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Wait, Rodolphus," Voldemort said as the large, muscular man brought the vial to his lips. "Don't try anything that you are sure Severus wouldn't do. You knew Severus well enough when you were younger." Rodolphus nodded and bowed again. "Go then." Voldemort took a step away from Rodolphus Lestrange. The man brought his wand up and gulped down a mouthful of the potion. For a second, his cold, aloof face was transformed into utter disgust and pure revulsion.

Rodolphus's ear-length, auburn hair lengthened into greasy, uneven, black locks as his elegantly arched nose narrowed and drew down into a hook shape. His cheeks turned sallow and wan. His shoulders bent, and his body shrunk. His hands grew thinner, more grotesque, and his eyes darkened into black. Eventually, within the minute, there were two Severus Snapes inside the small circle of Death Eaters.

"Come," the man said to Rodolphus/Snape. "The sooner we go the less suspicious they will be." Snape put his fingertips together thoughtfully, a very Snapeish thing to do. Behind Voldemort, Bella snorted.

"And how will I know who you are once we get to the Order?" Snape asked. The man's eyes narrowed for a moment. The watching Death Eaters were silent as the nameless man stood quietly in the flickering light from the fire.

"You will call me by Harrow," he replied finally. "Cevin Harrow."


	20. The Imposter

_Thanks to those who have reviewed thus far.  
_

_J.S._

**CHAPTER TWENTY: The Imposter**

Cevin and Snape returned to the Order headquarters very late at night. The only other person up, devouring books in the common library, was Erin. Cevin tried to slip Rodolphus by undetected, but Erin caught sight of the both of them.

"Hey Cevin!" she called out in greeting.

He groaned silently but felt obligated to retrace his steps and return her greeting. He reappeared in the doorframe; Snape was at his elbow. "Hi," he grunted, faking a huge yawn.

Erin set her book aside and stood up. "What are you doing out so late?" she inquired brightly. "You know we've got a big game coming up this weekend. Pity if our keeper was out because he had a ruddy split head."

Cevin shrugged. "Snape and I've just been out...hanging out," he replied neutrally. "But you're right, we'd best get some sleep." He put on an air of concern. "You'd better get some sleep too, Langhart."

She snorted and stooped down to pick her book up. "Yeah, yeah," Erin dismissed. "Whatever. Tonks recovered as soon as she got here. Didn't seem all that worried about being held captive." Erin shook her head in amusement. "Are you leaving early tomorrow?"

Cevin nodded, waved goodbye to Erin, then walked briskly down the hall towards the kitchen. "Who was that?" Rodolphus asked quietly when they were out of hearing distance.

Cevin stopped suddenly as they entered he kitchen. "That was Erin Langhart, _Snape_," he whispered. Snape nodded. "Now, are you going to show me the experiment up in your quarters?" For a second Rodolphus looked confused, but then catching on, he jerked his head quickly followed Cevin up the kitchen stairs.

After climbing in circles for more than a long while, Cevin finally stopped in front of a small, darkened door. "This is your room," he whispered so quietly Snape had to lean towards him to hear. "You know the way back to the kitchens. Do you know a thing about potions?"

"Yes," Rodolphus replied, equally soft. "You heard my master; My grades were better than Snape's."

"Good," Cevin said with some satisfaction. "Because tomorrow you will go to Hogwarts where you will learn Snape's schedule and teach his students. Nothing must go wrong. The portkey to Hogwarts is on your dresser; it looks like Jupiter."

Snape looked slightly surprised. "What time?"

"Snape never asks the time," Cevin sniffed. "Be sure to study all of..."

Rodolphus cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I know exactly how to impersonate someone successfully, Harrow," he growled. "You forget that I've done it several times before, and once it was our dear potion master friend."

"Right. Good bye then." Cevin turned to go, but was stopped as Snape's pincer-like grasp closed about his arm. "What do you want, Snape?"

"When will you get me the rest of my potion?"

"The ingredients are in your room and at Hogwarts," Cevin spat and wrenched his arm free. "Good night."

"Good night, Harrow."

* * *

Lupin sat up in his bed and slowly wiped the sleep from his eyes. His pushed his covers off and swung his feet to the floor, blinking as the bright dawn sun shone through his window. Grumbling to himself, he changed into a pair of jeans and a clean sweater. He combed his hair out of his eyes hastily with his fingers, yanked his worn shoes out from under his bed, pulled on a pair of socks, and tied up his shoes. He stood up, stretching, heard a commotion outside his door, and moved to open it.

"What are you doing up so early, Tonks?" he asked in surprise and found her in a crumpled heap a little way up from his door. She shrugged, or tried to from her unique position. "Is that very comfortable?"

"No." Tonks' voice was somewhat muffled. Grinning, Lupin grabbed her shoulders and heaved the little witch to her feet. "Thanks," Tonks said and brushed the dirt from her clothes.

"Anytime. Did you fall down the stairs again?"

Tonks nodded impishly. "Yeah. And I would have kept falling if your door jam wasn't there. My hand got wedged in there pretty bad." To emphasize her point, she massaged her hand.

"What were you doing above my rooms?" Lupin inquired with slightly narrowed eyes. "There's no other rooms up there besides Severus' and if you've been setting traps for him again..." Lupin shook his head. "It's bad enough that you poke fun of him when he isn't around, but you're asking for a full blown war!" Tonks grinned. "And don't look at me like that. I don't want to be the one who has to save you when he starts bringing his dark background to the playing field."

"No need," Tonks assured. "I can take care of myself."

Lupin snorted in disbelief. "Well let's hope you weren't trying to engage Snape in warfare," Lupin growled. Tonks giggled. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Let's hope it stays that way," he replied darkly. "You have too many crazy ideas in your head to be considered legally safe. Do you remember that time when you convinced Sirius to go sledding with on the roof? Nearly broke your necks," he added.

Tonks' eyes brightened. "That was _so_ much fun!" she reminisced. "You should have come, Remus, and you know it. Heck, we could do it this winter. With Erin too! Why, I bet she'd be able to come up with a lot of new things to do up there." She sighed. "We could have a snow ball fight with people in the courtyard. Yeah! And then we could roll these huge snowballs off the roof and squish them! Wouldn't that be great?"

"Well, there's no snow up there now," Lupin pointed out. "But still, you should plan nonetheless." Lupin stared up the stairs for a moment, then shrugged. He relaxed slightly and smiled. He continued with a much lighter tone. "What were you doing, checking out winter conditions? I heard that there's supposed to be a warming front coming in the next few days."

Tonks scowled half-heartedly. "Catch you round, Remus!" she called over her shoulder as she abruptly departed. "Thanks for getting me out of that mess!" Lupin watched her bound down the stairs three at a time. Chuckling to himself, Lupin closed his door, and left to find breakfast in the kitchen.

Following daily routine, Lupin scrounged what he could from the kitchen and tried to eat it all before Erin came down, made a fuss about his eating habits, and then cooked a huge breakfast he only picked over. Besides, he hadn't gotten sick from raw sausage _yet_. Laughing to himself, he deposited his bread and brie cheese on the table and fished out his pocket knife. As he sat down, he heard soft footsteps on the stairs. _Great_, he thought to himself_, either Erin or Tonks. Erin won't be pleased, and Tonks will just talk my ear off. What I wouldn't give for a peaceful morning_.

"What's going on?" Erin asked as she came out of the stairwell. "Up early again?" Lupin nodded and finished opening the brie wrapper. _Great. Big breakfast incoming,_ he thought grumpily.

"I don't sleep so well anymore," he explained and Erin noticed the dark circles under his eyes. "Besides, I like getting up in the morning. Normally it's pretty peaceful." Erin laughed and sat down across from him. "Um," Lupin began, seeing she was dressed in normal Muggle wear, "any reason for the Muggle clothes?" _No intention of cooking today, I see. Excellent_. He continued to happily scarf down his food.

Erin shrugged and leaned back. "Not really. I just didn't want to wear a robe today. I hadn't worn daks and a tee shirt in ages."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "But what about Quidditch practice?" he wondered. "You can't wear clothes like that to Quidditch."

"Right," Erin replied agreeably. "But what makes you think I'm going to Quidditch?"

"Well, that's where you always go," Lupin said reasonably, then stopped himself. He smiled hesitantly. "Did you accept the coaching job?" Erin nodded. "Huh. Well, that's good news."

Erin sniffed and accepted the slice of bread and brie he offered. "Thanks. I don't really think I was given much of a choice; basically the whole idea that I had one was to amuse me while they worked out the details." Lupin snorted and conjured at glass of water. "What?" Erin asked, glancing at him. "It's true!"

"I know."

"You could have told me, that way I wouldn't have had to waste all that time moping around. Anyway," she continued, without breath, "I got to thinking and I decided that me living was probably more important than me playing."

Lupin sighed with relief. "Nice of you to catch on," he smirked.

Erin stared at him darkly, silencing his chuckling, before continuing. "Right. So I'm going to sign their coaching contract tomorrow." Erin sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Have you got a busy day planned ?"

Lupin shrugged and wrapped up the cheese. "Oh, I don't know," he answered as he banished the remaining bread and cheese to the pantry. "Most likely not. I'll probably just do the normal things unemployed werewolves do. Look for a job, collect application forms, and then come back and burn them."

Erin was surprised. "I had no idea your life was that boring," she said truthfully. "Why don't you hang with me today? We could go back to Diagon Alley or something like that."

Lupin looked uncertain. "What about you and Tonks?" he wondered. "You don't think she would mind?"

Erin groaned and rolled her eyes. "Well don't think I meant doing things that would upset her," Erin scoffed. Lupin's face reddened slightly. Erin grinned when she noticed.

"You _know_ I wasn't thinking about that," he mumbled, voice strained.

Erin snorted. "I know," she agreed. "Tonks wouldn't mind. I'm sure."

"Okay," Lupin replied. "It sounds more fun than I planned on having."

They left for Diagon Alley around one, after Erin had her tea and beaten Lupin at another game of chess. The day, unusually warm for late October, was nicely sunny as a gentle, brisk wind scattered carefully raked Muggle leaf piles. The only clouds in sight had no daunting threat of rain, something Erin still wasn't adjusted to.

Diagon Alley was packed with many witches and wizards, all laden down with the goods they had bought. Lupin was particularly keen on visiting Fred and George's shop to check on them, but the 'quick' visit turned out to be quite the adventure. Erin had more than enough fun stocking up her and Tonks' trick bag, something they had put together over the summer holidays to counteract Ron and Harry's jests, and to annoy Snape. In the end, Lupin had to practically drag Erin out for fear she would get even nastier ideas than she already had.

They exited the joke shop and stood under the store's awning for a few minutes. Erin stepped into the bright fall light and watched the other shoppers file down the crowded street. "Come on, Remus," she urged, tugging on his sweater sleeve, "let's go get some ice cream." Lupin took her hand and allowed himself to be dragged into the bright sunlight.

He blinked when he encountered the fiercely brilliant wall of light. "Ice cream in November, Erin?" he asked, moving in front of Erin, and leading her under Flourish and Blot's shadowy awning, although it wasn't much darker than the sunlight. "Don't you think it's a bit out of season?" Erin snorted. "What other sorts of crazy ideas come into your head when you don't have Quidditch to occupy your mind?"

Erin's eyes lit up. "Ooh, good idea, Remus," she said. "Let's go to the Quidditch Shop! I've been dying to go there forever. Ever since Lisa told me that they had new Beater bats in from Iceland." She dropped his hand so she could use her hands to depict the bats more accurately. Still describing the bats, she began to make her way through the packed street.

Lupin pulled her back towards him. He sighed. "Let's not talk about Quidditch today, alright?" He looked down at his hands and then shook his head, staring at a point barely above Erin's head. "It's just I hear about it so much, what with you and Tonks constantly talking about your games..."

Erin grinned. "Sure thing, Remus. I understand. Thing is I would say that all the talk got to me too, but in truth it doesn't." She looked back over her shoulder towards the ice cream shop. "How'bout tea at the Leaky Cauldron? I've not been there since our win over the EAT."

Lupin shrugged and stepped into the sun. Erin followed. "Sounds fun," he whispered in her ear, slipping an arm around her waist. Erin startled as she felt his hand rest on her hip and glanced up at him, surprised to find a playful smile on his face. Erin rolled her eyes and gently shoved him. Lupin laughed appreciatively as he guided her down the busy street.

Tom greeted Lupin while mixing a drink from behind the bar and promised he'd be with them in a second. True to his word, the hunchback bartender met them quickly and, noticing Erin, sat them at a booth well out of the way, then hobbled away. Lupin sighed and leaned back against the high-backed seat.

"_Lumos_," Erin whispered, frowning at the dingy, unlit chandelier above them. Their little corner was instantly doused with rich light.

"Does it always have to be light?" Lupin muttered, somewhat annoyed. "Or, for once, can we avoid bright objects? You're like a packrat." Erin looked confused. "Never mind. I see your wand's working well," Lupin said quickly, changing the subject.

"Yup," Erin agreed. "It works pretty well. As a matter of fact, I've gotten so used to not blowing things up that when I accidentally do, I freak out!" Erin tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Not that I purposefully set things on fire," she added at Lupin's worried look. "Those things just happen sometimes."

"Tell me," Lupin snickered, not unkindly, "just how _did_ you pass through grade school if you can't even use a wand?"

Erin glowered at him. "You know very well I can," she growled. "Besides, you should tell me a few things." Erin leaned forward. "I hardly know a thing about you, even after I've known you for almost a year."

Lupin rested on his elbows on the table. "Well that's saying something," he mused, looking very pleased with himself, "isn't it?"

Erin was not amused. "When I've told you all those things about me?" she asked. "It doesn't seem fair."

"I know, Erin," Lupin agreed, bending toward her until they were at eye level. "You haven't asked me before. That's fair enough. I'm just more inquisitive of the two of us." Erin tried to look imposing. "So ask," Lupin dared.

"Where were you born?" Erin asked quickly, meeting Lupin's eyes squarely.

"Prestwick," Lupin answered automatically, without blinking.

Erin glared at him, barely maintaining a stern face. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead," came the response. It lacked any sign of remorse.

"Are you sorry?" Erin wondered, abashed. Lupin shook his head, but it was clear he didn't want to elaborate. "You're an only child then?" He nodded. "Okay, what's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Well you're just full of quick answers, aren't you?" Erin asked, annoyed. Lupin smiled and bowed slightly in his chair.

Tom appeared by their tableside. "It looks like you two are conspiring about something," he noted, glaring suspiciously at them. "Well don't go raising a ruckus in here; I've got a tavern to keep, and customers to keep happy. Now, what do you want?"

Lupin leaned off the table and glanced over towards Erin. "Tea for the both of us, right Erin?" he wondered. Erin nodded and Tom shuffled away, stopping here and there to chat with other patrons in his house. Lupin looked back to Erin, grinning smugly.

Erin pursed her lips, thinking. She watched the other people file in and out to the Leaky Cauldron as Lupin waited for her next question. "Who was your first girlfriend?"

Lupin was baffled, obviously not ready. "Umm...," he started, gazing absentmindedly at the chandelier, "hmm." He sat in silence a few seconds more, brow knotted in concentration.

"You were really that popular you can't remember?" Erin chided and sat back as Tom delivered their tea, sugar, and a small pitcher of milk, then faded back to the bar.

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Lily Evans," he said finally.

Erin nearly choked on her tea, eyes watering. "Not that I'm an expert on family history, cause I'm not," she coughed, "but wasn't she James Potter's wife?" Lupin nodded, not fazed in the least, and stirred sugar into his tea. "Tell then."

Lupin sighed and took a sip of his steaming tea. He looked nearly as hesitant as Erin felt when asked to talk about her family. He finally set his cup down and closed his eyes. "I'm a werewolf," he put simply, not looking at Erin. She watched him carefully, though. "Sirius and James were kind enough to be my friends at a time when few were." Lupin shrugged nonchalantly. "Lily, although she despised both James and Sirius, saw beyond the studious character I made for myself to cover up my identity. Extremely bright," he mused. Lupin opened his eyes and slid them over to Erin. "Rather like you, I think," he whispered. Erin fidgeted uncomfortably. Lupin, noticing, continued quickly. "She was more of a friend to me. I think she knew she was only a friend. Actually," he said with a chuckle, "I don't know if she wanted anything more. But she was." His eyes lost focus, he was lost in memories, and Erin was fascinated. "Oh, I remember those days when nothing seemed to be between me and freedom. Her eyes..." He smiled wistfully. "She was the dearest friend I ever had." His bright eyes peered across to Erin, who was sipping her tea quietly. "She was my dearest friend until you came around."

"Quit that, Lupin," Erin demanded, although for the first time she wondered if what he said was actually true.

Lupin shrugged. "What other questions do you have up your sleeves?" he asked brightly. "Or may I ask one?"

"Shoot," Erin said.

"Well," Lupin began, "I've been wondering for the longest time why you're afraid of me."

Erin was sullen. "I am not afraid of you," she said indignantly. "Why'd you think that?"

"Because," Lupin responded slyly, "you're either afraid of me, the future, or any man in general." He picked his teacup up and leaned back against the booth. "So which is it?"

"Choice 'd'," she snorted. "None of the above." Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Fine," Erin submitted, "the future, if you have to know."

"Why?"

Erin frowned at his persistence. "Remus, you already know what's happened to me," she whispered. "Why shouldn't I be hesitant to meet the unknown? Every time I've seen it, every time I've meddled with something that isn't cold hard fact, it always ends out wrong." She brushed the hair out of her eyes. "Surprise was never something I've liked that much anyway."

"I don't see how you can play Quidditch then," Lupin reasoned. "That's very much dealing with a lot of the unknown."

Erin sighed. "Right, but there's an adrenaline with Quidditch, Remus," she argued. "That's something you can't copy. The sound of wind in your hair, or feeling cold rain on your back...I haven't found anything like it. It's what real magic is, Remus. That feeling of invincible, eternal freedom."

Lupin set his tea down and looked across the table at Erin seriously. "You haven't really broadened your thinking," he said very softly. Erin stared into his eyes, lost by their intensity. "You don't know other things won't give you that freedom you want."

"I don't want to know if they would," Erin replied tiredly, wrenching her eyes from his. "Listen," she continued more lightly, "I just want to reach midlife. And with my karma it's going to be difficult, even with me trying to play it safe."

Lupin's brow contracted. "But you already have reached midlife," he pointed out seriously. "Divide your life by two, right?" Erin glowered. "Hasn't anyone ever told you to live for the moment, Erin?" he asked quickly. Erin's frown deepened as she stared at the tabletop, thinking. Lupin watched her a few moments more, then waved Tom over to them and ordered them each a meal.

* * *

When Erin and Lupin finally returned to the Order of Phoenix early in the evening after they had finished a long talk over dinner, Molly Weasley was frantic with worry. Not only was Erin unsuccessful at convincing her that they had been in Diagon Alley the whole day and out of harm's way, it was also pointless trying to convince her they had had a filling and healthy dinner. At last, when they had eaten each a serving of mashed potatoes and gravy, Lupin took Erin by the hand and led her up the kitchen stairs to his room. Tonks trotted around the spiraling staircase as Lupin opened his door.

"Don't tell me you're inspecting snow conditions again," Lupin spat mildly when he spotted her.

Tonks grinned. "Nope." She caught sight of Erin. "Hey, guess what? I got him today! Yeah it was great." For a second she looked troubled. "But I used the last firecracker we had." She sniggered cruelly. "Kept trying to vanish them, he did." Tonks dropped her voice to a whisper. "At one point there were sixteen in his room. You'd think he'd remember the last time he tried to vanish them." Tonks snorted. "Oh well. Ruddy brilliant."

Erin gave her a high five and then dove into her pockets. "Here," she said, dumping the joke products into Tonks' hands, "I bought them when we were at Diagon Alley today. I thought we were getting low on supplies."

"Who are you talking about?" Lupin asked, curious, as the various supplies were exchanged.

Tonks rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Well who do you think? Kreacher, maybe?" Tonks smirked, pocketed what Erin had given her, and saluted. "No, really. I got Snape when he came back from Hogwarts this afternoon," she elaborated with a roll of her eyes. "Well, catch you round!" And Tonks was gone in a second, although they could still hear her clomping shoes on the stairs for quite a while.

Lupin sighed, shaking his head, and steered Erin into his room. "Listen," he said, once they were inside and the door shut, "I've been thinking about what you said real magic was, and you're right, you know. But won't you give me the chance to show you that that magic lives wherever you truly want it to be?" Lupin glanced to where Erin was standing just an arm length away from him. He crossed the distance between them when she didn't answer and turned her to face him. "Will you, Erin?" He lifted her chin so she had to look at him.

"I don't know," Erin sighed, biting her lip. She looked torn, flustered, and puzzled. "Every time you've asked me that I've had a good excuse, but..."

Lupin chuckled softly. "But now you don't?" he finished. Erin nodded. "Just let me have that chance, won't you?" Erin looked downcast, inwardly debating, then slowly nodded. Lupin tentatively slid his hands down her back and smiled when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Without hesitating, Lupin bent down and drew Erin into a lingering kiss that left her hanging in his arms. "Still scared are you?" he breathed into Erin's ear.

"A bit," she answered hoarsely, making Lupin laugh.

"At least you're honest." Still chuckling, he disentangled himself from her and led her over to the bed. As Lupin sat down, drawing Erin down with him, he whispered, "I wish I were."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Erin wondered, alarmed, as Lupin leaned over her, forcing her to lay back.

He smiled, face inches away from hers. "You're not afraid," he mumbled, nuzzling her ear with his long nose. "You're so immune to pride. It's quite the gift." He kissed her again, this time feeling the passion from her reaction. It surprised him. And when she reached up to stroke his cheek...Lupin was propelled into his haunting memory after the EAT game, the memory he was supposed to have forgotten. Desire coursed through his body, making his actions come faster than his thoughts. "Hope you're not scared," he murmured hoarsely.

Erin laughed girlishly. "Always the gentleman, aren't you?" she asked, pulling him toward her and kissing him before he could respond.

Lupin grinned wolfishly, and swung his legs onto the bed. "I try to be." Erin snorted at his response and rested her head against his chest as he drew her next to him. "I only fail when you and Tonks gang up on me." Lupin felt Erin quiver with laughter as he stroked her hair. Snickering himself, Lupin lay down, gathering Erin into his arms, and closed his eyes.

Lupin woke up slowly and, noticing the bleak night, checked the clock mounted on his wall. _3:14_? he wondered sleepily and felt Erin shift beside him. A smile came to his lips as he remembered, scooting closer to his friend, curling protectively around her. She was shivering. _No wonder_, he thought, conjuring a thick blanket and spreading over them. _With this weather._ Cold wind whipped through the bare trees outside, rattling the single pane windows. _And to think it was that warm yesterday..._Lupin drifted off to sleep once more, resting peacefully from the first time in months.


	21. Bad News

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Bad News**

Erin blinked in the dim red light of the rising sun and stretched fully, nearly going into cardiac arrest when she spotted Lupin dozing beside her. She sat up and shook her head, clearing it of sleep.

"You up?" Lupin asked groggily, raising his head a few inches off the bed and opening a bleary eye.

"Yeah," Erin whispered, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

He shook his head. "I'm a light sleeper." Lupin pushed himself up onto an elbow. "What in Merlin's name are you up for?"

Erin yawned, still tired. "I've got to be on the pitch at six fifteen," she replied, combing the hair out of her face with her fingers. "I sign that coaching contract today."

Lupin slumped back down on the bed. "Hmm..." Erin glanced over to Lupin and saw he was almost asleep. Smirking, she slid out from under the covers Lupin had conjured earlier that morning and stood up. "What time is it?" Lupin mumbled into the bed as Erin padded silently across the floor.

Pausing on her way out the door, Erin looked at the clock. "Five thirty," she answered and snorted when she heard him sigh with gratefulness.

"Good," she heard Lupin say as she closed the door, "I still can sleep for another hour. Excellent." His snoring resumed.

* * *

Erin smiled as she saw Hawthorne Bates come through the door to the WIC manager's office. He swept her into a bone-breaking hug. "Nice to see you alive, squirt," he laughed. Erin grinned. "So you're up for my job?"

"Yeah," Erin answered, following Bates over to the manager's desk. A contract had already been written up; all that was left was for Erin and him to sign. Erin looked the crisp parchment over. "Wait, coach, it's got your name as the coach."

Bates nodded. "And?" he asked. "Nothing a vanishing spell can't help." With a smirk, he pulled his wand out from his back pocket and vanished the tidy script. "The manager and I decided that you'd best just finish my contract for me, incase you didn't like coaching." Erin shrugged. "So sign." Bates handed Erin the elegant eagle quill.

"But this is insane!" she complained, hesitating. "I'm not going to take your salary. That's _way_ too much! More than what I was getting paid."

Bates chuckled. "The manager warned me about this," he grumbled brightly. Erin looked at him, confused. "Well, I'm not going to go cold turkey, now am I?" he wondered. "I've got a wife that insists on decking our house in themes, and Merlin knows what theme we've got on this month. Takes a lot of gold to keep that hobby up, it does." His face darkened. "Anyway. We'll split it, fifty-fifty. I can't say that you'll be getting the same amount as what you were." Bates puckered his lips and whistled. "Damn, now _that_ was a lot of money for a Beater."

Erin sneered and signed the contract. "Well, it's not exactly like it was my fault, now is it?" she asked. "The manager talked me into it. I was all set on a whole lot less, but nooo. It just had to be that much. Stupid that's what it is. I sure don't want a contract like Ode's." She gave the quill back to Bates and he signed the parchment. "Instead of hoarding all the money for basically useless purposes, we should at least give it to worthwhile places."

"Do enlighten us. I don't think that Quidditch is useless."

Erin rolled her eyes. "So I spoke a bit too elaborately," she snorted with a shrug. "But come on. Don't you think that it's unfair that we receive huge contracts while organizations like Mungo's has had to cut workers because they don't have the funds to pay them? Don't tell me that our health is less important than this game, 'cause without Mungo's we'd all be dead."

Bates shook his head and rolled the contract up. "Make that, you'd be dead."

"Right, but you get the idea."

Bates tucked the scroll into his pocket and led the way towards the door, but stopped half way. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, stooping over the cherry coffee table in the sitting area and picking up three enormous books, "to give you the play books. I'm sure you've seen them before, but I just thought that it'd be good to brush up." He grinned wickedly and shoved them into Erin's surprised arms.

"Ugh. Thanks, coach."

Bates wagged a mocking finger as he watched her struggle with the books' weight. "Now, Erin," he scolded jokingly. "You forget that _you're_ the coach now. I don't want to hear any more of this 'coach' business. I'm Bates." A cunning glint came to his shining eyes. "Now I can call _you_ 'coach'."

"Yeah, whatever, Bates," Erin grunted. "But I've really got to go if I'm going to get home before my arms fall off. See you round."

* * *

Erin looked up quickly from the playbooks she was reading in her bed as her room door swung open. Tonks bounded in and jumped onto her bed, grinning. The thick books immediately entranced her as soon as Tonks had spotted them.

"Hey, whatcha' doing?" Erin greeted and leaned back, letting Tonks get a better view.

Tonks looked up and laughed. "Wotcher, Erin. Well, I was going to tell you something important, but I kinda forgot from downstairs to here." She glanced sheepishly up at Erin. "I mean, it's not like it was incredibly important, right? Otherwise, they wouldn't have sent me! Come on, it's not _my_ fault."

"Nice defense," Erin applauded, reaching forward to pull the big playbook towards her.

Tonks was interested. "So what's that behemoth, huh?"

Erin groaned with lack of enthusiasm. "Ugg. Well, these are the books that I get the teams' plays out of," she explained, flipping through the various moving diagrams. "Up until about noon I was content with memorizing a few Beater plays. But apparently, now that I'm coach, I've got to know what the other people are doing too."

Tonks looked sympathetic. "Sorry, that doesn't sound like a whole ton of fun."

Erin shook her head. "It's really not, but what can I do about it? Oh, well," she sighed.

"Whoa!" Tonks suddenly exclaimed and flipped back a few pages to a play. "What's this one?" Erin peered at the moving picture for a moment and then sat back. "It's so awesome; you guys should do it!"

"Well, maybe," Erin shrugged. "It's a really complicated one. I think it's called something like Baulkner's Suicide." Tonks cringed and Erin nodded, grimacing herself. "Yeah, I've only heard it suggested, never actually played. From what the info says here," Erin read, pointing to a sentence midway through the play's description, "it's only been used in two games. One was with the Seeker, Thorton Baulkner, and again in a game Poland versus Turkmenistan. Hmmm...They were both no brainers, the games were. I guess it's some sort of defense."

"If you ever need of a good, ruddy awesome defense..." Tonks said, nudging Erin in the ribs and winking.

Erin rolled her eyes. "I don't know if the adjectives 'good' and 'ruddy awesome' are put to their best use in this case," Erin noted. "It seems like it's a very _complicated_ and awfully _iffy_ play to me, but you never know." Her eyes jerked up from the playbook to stare in amazement at Tonks as the short witch started to roll on Erin's bed with uncontrollable, and unexplained, laughter. "What's so funny?" Erin asked nervously.

"Heh, I just remembered what I was up here for," Tonks answered, wiping a stray tear from her eyes. "Heh, heh. It's pretty funny." Tonks momentarily stared at the ceiling. "Well, per say, it's not _it_ that's particularly amusing..."

"Well apparently," Erin grumbled. "What exactly is so funny?" Tonks giggled some more. "Or did you even plan on telling me?"

Tonks snorted. "Ah, I might," she choked between laughing fits. "But who knows?"

"Tonks, what's so bloody funny?" Erin asked, setting the playbook to the side, giving up on any attempt to study plays while her insane friend was with her. Tonks still hadn't ceased her laughter. "I'm not sure I've seen you this worked up since I told you about the barracuda that almost got me when I was six."

Tonks stopped laughing almost immediately. She frowned. "No, that was funny, this is amazingly_ bizarre_." She broke out into more peals of laughter.

Erin groaned and sat up straight on her bed, swinging her feet to the floor. "Okay, so tell me now?" she wondered, standing up and pulling a sweatshirt from the trunk at the foot of her bed.

Tonks peered into the trunk, curious, and her giggling ceased. "You've got anything dressy in there?"

Erin looked down at Tonks, after pulling on her sweatshirt, surprised. "Uh, yeah," Erin answered, crouching down and rummaging through her messy trunk. "I've got some daks in here somewhere. Why?" From the inside of her trunk, she wasn't able to see Tonks' completely bemused look.

"No reason," Tonks replied. "Do you have any dresses or the like?" Tonks asked, obviously intrigued.

Erin nearly banged her head on the trunk lid as she looked up quickly in amazement. "Do you think I have any in there?" Tonks bit her lip a bit uncertainly. "You're mad; must be." Erin sighed at Tonks' confused look. "Of course I don't have any dresses in here, dolt! I've not owned a dress since I was young enough I didn't pick out what I wore! They're nasty, horrible, constricting straightjackets, if you ask me." Erin caught sight of Tonks' gleeful face. "Why?"

"Umm...dunno."

Erin scratched her nose. "Yeah right, Tonks," she muttered. "Listen, you wouldn't be able to wear anything of mine anyway; I'm like twice your size." Tonks nodded in agreement. "Well come on, you've got to have some bloody reason."

"How'd you be up for going to dinner?" Tonks asked.

Erin was surprised. "I would, but I've got all those," she looked at the massive books on her bed, "to read. The sooner I get them read the better."

"Oh."

"Sorry about that."

Tonks shook her head. "No, it's perfectly fine. I wasn't asking you to go out to dinner." Erin furrowed her brow, slightly confused. "Nope. I'm going to eat the tomato soup that Molly just cooked and maybe devise another brilliant plan to sabotage Snape." Her eyes lit up. "And I shall call it Baulkner's Suicide."

Erin laughed. "You go ahead and eat your dead horse. See, listen here. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but, I've really got to get this work done..."

"Say no more, say no more," Tonks interrupted. "I'm already on my way." Tonks stood up quickly and walked to Erin's door. "Hey. Keep up the good work. Apparently we're calling you 'coach' now, Cevin's orders."

Erin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? Well, since you're on the team now, and all..."

Tonks rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I suppose, _Erin_." Tonks laughed. "Seriously. I care less about your team than some things. I meant good work between you and Lupin, mate. Not Quidditch." Tonks turned around slightly, and saw Erin's reddening face.

Erin had a sudden urge to deny anything that had happened between herself and Lupin. "How'd..." she stuttered, glancing around. She knew the look on her face wasn't helping her.

"Oh, you're one to play that line smooth," Tonks sighed, rolling her eyes. She stared across at Erin knowingly. "Naw, mate, why'd you want to deny it? Not like you could fool me," she added. "I've gotten over myself, ya remember? It's okay, so long as you're happy." Tonks squinted, as if trying to remember something she'd been taught a very long time ago. "Ah, yes, that's it. No worries, at all, mate." Erin grinned. "Right?"

"Okay," Erin agreed warily, then paused. "But..."

Tonks was ahead of Erin by one step. "I'm over it because I'd rather see you two happy than be in a spit with you the rest of my life. I might be immature, but I do have a head on these shoulders." Erin nodded solemnly. "Heh. You're probably about the same color as the soup I'm going to eat. Ah, well." Tonks walked out the door, but poked her head back in. "Lupin wanted to talk with you at around eight when he returns from Glasgow. Ta!" And Tonks was gone. Erin glanced to the clock nervously. It read 7:18. _Shoot,_ Erin thought, _well I'm not going to get that much time to read. Damn_.

Eight o'clock was slow coming, and Erin wasn't sure if it was because the things she was reading were incredibly boring or that she was looking forward to seeing Lupin. Either way, she read forty-four plays, committed them to memory, and was well into her forty fifth when Lupin knocked on her door.

"Come in," Erin called.

"Glad I didn't find you asleep," Lupin smiled when he was inside her room. "Tonks said you were reading some fairly thick literature...in English, for once."

Erin grinned and pushed her long hair out of her face. "So what that I don't read English? I've read plenty of English works, just not in English." She set her play book aside. "What did you want to talk about? Through Tonks it sounded kind of, not-so-urgent."

Lupin frowned and crossed to her side, sitting on the bed. "No, Erin, this is quite urgent." Erin sat up. "I've recently overheard Cevin and Severus talking about where the World Cup is going to be held." Lupin shook his head sadly. "They say your team has a good a chance as any in reaching the Cup, but I don't want you to go."

"Why not?"

"They're planning to hold it in Sydney, Erin," Lupin said, exasperated. "They've just put in a new stadium there and, so it sounds, they want to show it off."

Erin smiled. "That's awesome they got a new facility!" she said happily. "The organization really needed to pitch that old heap that I used to play in. Whew, that was a tosser. I mean, even the home locker rooms were covered with grime that must have been at least twenty or more years old. Damn it reeked something bad in the summertime. I _am_ glad they got rid of it..."

Lupin cut her off by placing a hand on Erin's shoulder. The look in his eyes worried Erin. "But we decided against you ever going back to Australia," he reminded her. "Don't you remember after you got that letter from Liam?" Erin nodded.

"Yeah," she whispered, staring off into space. "But what if we get into the World Cup? I mean, I won't be playing, or anything."

Lupin sighed, leaning back on his arms. "But something could happen," he argued. "I'm not saying that anything will happen with Quidditch." He smiled. "Unless a Bludger is magnetically drawn to you. You do have that uncanny way of always getting hurt in important games."

"Well, that's true," Erin admitted. "I still don't think that it's something to get worked up about. Honestly, what's the worse thing that could happen?"

Lupin scowled. "You could get killed," he answered bluntly.

Erin pursed her lips. "Well, sure," she agreed, "but everyone dies at some point." Lupin snorted in disbelief. Erin placed a hand on his arm. "Come on. I love the game. Why would you want to stop me from going? I'm the coach now, for Merlin's sake!"

Lupin caught hold of both Erin's hands and looked deep into her eyes. "Because I don't want to loose you," he said softly. "That would be something that I, none of us who know you, would be able to bear." Erin looked as though she was going to respond. "You don't understand, Erin," he whispered. "You once told me that dreamed you and your brother's families would live side by side and you and he would play chess all day. If you're dead that can never come true." Erin sighed darkly and stared at her knees. Lupin gently lifted her chin with a hesitating hand. "Erin, are you alright?"

"That dream was gone a long time ago, Remus," she sniffed, tears welling in her eyes. "It won't come true now. I'm up here, he's all the way down there. And Luka's torn us apart. That was a fantasy."

"Do you think you're the only one with dreams, Erin?" Lupin asked. "I don't want to take the chance." Erin frowned again. "Listen, Erin," Lupin pleaded earnestly. "I love you." Erin stared at him, wide eyed. Lupin noticed and raised his eyebrows dubiously. "Don't tell me you've failed to notice."

"I'm pretty good at not noticing those types of things," she admitted with a sly grin, but quickly recovered. "No," she continued, "I guess I knew."

"Then you can't go."

Erin rubbed her eyes, suddenly tired, and yawned. "Yeah, for the time being, okay." Lupin was relieved. "But you know I've only just heard about this whole Australia W.C. thing. Give me some time to think it over." She smirked. "Who knows. Sounds like a great holiday."

Lupin scowled, although the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Great holiday indeed," he snorted. "It would be more similar to a kamikaze mission than a holiday." A smile returned to his face. "Promise me you'll consider everything?"

"Fine," Erin submitted. "Okay." She pulled the huge playbook into her lap. "Now, I've got to get this one read by tomorrow, and I'm only half way through. You wanna help, or were you leaving?"

Lupin sighed. "I would be no help to you," he whispered and stood up, leaning briefly over Erin to kiss her on the forehead. "See you in the morning."

"Mm, okay," Erin mumbled and watched him leave. She flipped back to the last play she had been memorizing, bored before she began reading.


	22. Carpe Diem

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Carpe Diem**

"We did it, Erin! Erin, we won!" Erin gave the thumbs up sign to Lisa as the Beater rushed to meet Erin part way off the Quidditch field. "We won!" Erin grinned ear to ear as she and Lisa collided in a bone-breaking bear hug. "Were going to the World Cup!"

"I know, mate," Erin whispered, regaining her breath after having the wind knocked out of her. She could barely contain her glee. "You were ruddy brilliant out there, Lisa. I wish I had been able to watch more of our games. We slaughtered them, didn't we?"

Lisa nodded her head furiously. "Damn right! Hell, those Dutch were _flattened_! Yeah!"

"How'd you like working with Allan in a game?" Erin asked as they floated down from the sunny sky.

Lisa shrugged, grin never leaving her face. "Ah, he's alright," she answered neutrally. "We won, god damnit! Ha! See what those Japanese think now! Ah, ha! They thought that we were beat! Boo-ya!" Lisa smirked apologetically at Erin. "Sorry, just had to get that one out of my system. I'm better now." She paused, taking in a great breath. "Nah, Knars? He's nothing like you, mate, but he's good. Heck, were he thirty odd years younger he'd be worth going after, don't you think?"

Erin raised her eyebrows in shock. "Um, sure," she stammered. "I've never spent much time thinking about that."

Lisa did some kind of insane war dance as they landed. "We won! We won! We won!" She stopped for a second. "Come on, Erin, join with me." And then she started up again. "We won! We won! We won!"

"Ah, no thanks," Erin replied, edging away from her crazy friend. "I thought I'd just have a drink at the Leaky Cauldron with a few friends. You should join us when you're done. Provided that they haven't tied you up and hauled you off to a funny farm, now. See you!" Erin twirled her Ashur in her hand and headed into the locker rooms.

* * *

Rodolphus returned from Hogwarts, tired and fully annoyed at having to yell at his students the entire day, with a huge stack of papers that needed to be graded. After laboriously climbing the endless-seeming stairs to his room, rather Snape's room, he quickly deposited the parchment on his desk and unbuttoned his heavy robe. Snow shed from the black folds onto the charred wood floor.

"Ah, damn you, Severus," Tonks' voice came from near his bed, "you snuffed the fuse." Snape turned around and saw the little witch crouching by the opposite side of his bed, completely hidden except for her head. "And that was a good one too." She muttered curses under her breath.

Snape glanced down at the floor and saw, predictably, another one of Fred and George's firecrackers. He glared at Tonks. "And why would you think I would be remorseful?" Tonks stood up and glared at him. "Besides," Snape continued as he hung his cloak up on a chair, "I came here to _relax_, not start a full blown war with you."

Tonks snorted and began to move towards the door. She fiddled with something in her pocket as she walked. "Huh. Weird, because I certainly haven't missed any opportunities to blow something up in your face. You'd think you would have caught on by now." Snape stood rigidly by his coat hanger when he saw Tonks' wand come out of her pocket. He drew his own. "Sheesh, you bastard," Tonks growled, seeing his wand. "All I'm doing is lighting these firecrackers...give me a break, will ya?" She lit the fireworks and fled his room. His curses followed her all the way into her rooms.

* * *

"I hear that you've made it to the World Cup," Lupin said, in announcement of his arrival, as he stepped through Erin's partially cracked door with a tea tray in his hand. He set it down on the desk Erin was working at and pulled up a chair. "So what have you been thinking?" Erin glanced over to him wearily, dark circles under her eyes, from the third enormous playbook. "You look terrible. Tea?"

"I'd love some," Erin whispered, voice dry. She took the cup that Lupin poured her and sipped it carefully. "I don't know, Remus," she sighed, setting her tea aside after a few sips. "This whole W.C. game is getting me down. It's hard enough to decide if going to Australia is a good idea let alone if the whole team should play there." Lupin nodded as he poured himself a cup of tea. "Ah, I just don't know what to think. What was it, three weeks ago that you told me where the games were going to be played?"

"What's wrong?" Lupin asked. "It's not like you to be this worried about something."

Erin shook her head, closing her eyes for a second. "I got another letter from Liam today," she whispered, taking a huge breath. "I don't know what to think. He sounded so...so not right. It was brief, kind of like a generic, mass produced holiday card. Here." Erin fished the crumpled piece of parchment from her pocket and handed it to Lupin.

He read it quickly. " 'Erin, I miss you. I'm glad that the medical term at Mungo's worked out so well, and I'm more than pleased you've gotten back into Quidditch. That's something I would never have dreamed you would do. Congratulations, and stay safe. Your brother, Liam.'" Lupin set the short letter back onto the desk, and shrugged. "He sounds alright to me."

"No," Erin said quickly, "no, you can tell he's not. He never used to say what he's thinking, or how he's feeling. Look at that," she pointed to the letter. "In which sentence doesn't he specify what he's thinking?" She stared up at Lupin. "Look, I know that you don't want me to go, but I've got to. Liam's in trouble; I've got to help him!"

"Erin, calm down," Lupin ordered, putting a hand on her shoulder. He watched as she fidgeted nervously. "Drink your tea." Erin obliged and Lupin relaxed, leaning back in his chair. "When was the last time you sent your brother a letter?"

Erin raised an eyebrow at his question and then pondered it. "I dunno, maybe sometime in March. No wait," she said, tapping her teacup. "It was right before I was um, captured by Luka. So, I guess that would have been the third week of February. Why?"

Lupin sighed uncomfortably. "Well, you joined the Welsh team in..."

Erin cut in. "April. April sixteenth, to be exact."

"Okay, so middle of April, right?" Erin nodded. "Well, if the last letter you sent him was in February, and you joined Quidditch in April, how does that line up? He wouldn't have known about you joining unless he's been informed by someone who knows you fairly well."

Erin looked surprised. "So what you're saying is someone is spying on me?"

Lupin shrugged neutrally and took another sip of his tea. "I said nothing of the sort," he denied. "On the contrary, I merely hinted that someone could be _watching_ you. Then of course sending his, or her, findings back to Australia, where they would, presumably, end up in Luka's hands and then later distributed to his followers. I suppose, if you want to get technical about it, then yes, someone would be spying on you. And for quite some time, it appears."

"Well, thanks," Erin replied sarcastically, "that makes me feel so much better."

Lupin grinned. "Naturally, unless you decide that you would like to take up the career of sleuthing, you won't go to Australia for the World Cup, right?" Lupin asked.

Erin sighed. "No, I want to go." Lupin was shocked. "I know, I know. We just discovered that someone has been _watching_ me for Merlin knows how long, and that Luka's at the other end, _presumably_. Yeah, the set up there for disaster is almost certain." Lupin nodded slowly, still confused on Erin's rational. "Think about it. I don't know when the next time that I'll be able to participate in a World Cup is. This year I was lucky enough to be given the chance. Who knows about next year." Erin crumpled Liam's note and chucked it into the wastebasket under her desk. "You told me that I needed to seize the day. Well, this bloody well seems like seizing the day to me."

Lupin sat in stony silence. "By seizing the day I didn't necessarily mean going to kill yourself," he countered. "You can't be serious about all this, Erin," he continued. "You've almost gotten yourself killed _how_ many times before? It's not a good idea."

"And with all those practice runs not dying, I ought to be pretty darn good at it by now, don't you think?" Lupin scowled and set his empty teacup on the tray. "Come on, Remus. All those times I could have died and look what I'd have missed in life. If I die, which I will one of these days, I'd like to have gone to at least one more World Cup, been the champion at least once more, and visited my home again. It's now or never, don't you know?"

Lupin stood up and began to pace the space behind Erin's desk. "Erin, I don't care what your defense is," he started, staring straight ahead. "But going to the World Cup in Sydney is not a good idea. Are you going to be that selfish as to risk others lives so you can live more richly?"

Erin groaned, feeling seasick as she watched Lupin pace, stood up and firmly stopped Lupin's walk. "The only life I'm selfishly risking is my own. I have not asked anyone else to come with me. I will not ask anyone else to come with me." Erin stared directly into Lupin's eyes. "No one will come with me unless they feel like they need to. I'm going, Remus."

Lupin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Erin..." he began, pleading, but she cut him off.

"No, Remus. I've made up my mind. Hell and high water keep me away." Lupin turned away. "Listen, Remus, I'm my own person. I've been gone from my home for too long. Much too long. I'm sorry, alright, sorry that it's got to be this way, but there is no other way." She sidestepped him, facing him once more. "Alright?" Erin was unprepared as Lupin swept her into a tight hug.

"Erin," he whispered into her hair, "I don't want to lose you. Don't you understand? I couldn't..."

Erin returned his hug. "Of course I do, Remus, and you've got to understand it's mutual..."

"Erin, if you were to die..." Lupin mumbled, words thick on his tongue. "I don't know what would happen."

At that moment, Tonks burst through Erin's door. Once again, the little witch was stupefied, but she smiled. "What's this?" she wondered lightly, grin cracking on her face as she flattened her more-haywire-than-normal hair. "Having a Quidditch study group? I heard that Erin couldn't memorize this one play..." She faded sheepishly as Lupin turned to give her a cold stare. "Oh, what now?" Tonks asked without any sympathy whatsoever. "Was there a pea under your mattress this s'morning, Lupin? That's what?" Erin laughed despite the previously emotionally tense situation. "So, which is it?"

"Erin's going to Australia for the World Cup," Lupin explained, releasing Erin. Both women in the room looked at him in surprise, although a small smile crept across Erin's face.

"Awesome!" Tonks cried, thumping Erin on the back. "Holy cow! I had no idea! Whoa!" She paused for the smallest of measurable time. "Hey, can I come?"

Lupin shrugged. "If Erin's alright with the three of us coming."

Erin jerked her head around to meet Lupin's eyes so suddenly her neck popped. "Ouch, god damnit!" she cursed, rubbing her neck, and then turned to Lupin. "What do you mean, the _three_ of us? I'm the only one who's going."

Tonks face lengthened. "Damn. Does that mean I can't go?" Erin looked at her friend. "Heck, that's too bad." She began to retreat from the room like a recently punished puppy.

"No, wait, Tonks, you can come if you like." Tonks was instantly back to being her annoyingly hyperactive self. "If you want to," Erin restated. "I don't know if it's the best of ideas...Tonks, why on earth is your shirt on inside out and backwards?"

Tonks glanced down at her shirt and then back up to Erin's inquiring face. "Um," she mumbled, face reddening, "um, I must have put it on that way."

Lupin snorted in disbelief. "That will be the day, Tonks, when you put your favorite Weird Sisters shirt on backwards and inside out." Lupin's mood seemed to have improved somewhat. "What's the real reason."

"I'm sorry, got it?" Tonks asked, falsely annoyed. An evil grin dashed across her face. "It's not my fault I suck at the spell that folds my laundry. My mum always did it for me when I was a kid!"

Erin raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Tonks, whatever. Listen, though. This whole World Cup thing could be a bit of a bad idea for you." Tonks looked surprised. "I mean," Erin recovered quickly, "don't you have work or something like that?"

Tonks laughed. "At the prime of this deskwork season?" she asked with a chuckle. "You're funny, Erin. No, seriously. You and Lupin spending time in Australia, alone, without me? Bullshit. I'll be there. Hey, give me the details on the departure later; got to fly." And Tonks, cue to normal, was gone. Lupin and Erin stared at each other for a second.

"Don't you think we should tell someone about this?" Lupin wondered. "About Liam's letter, I mean."

Erin shook her head. "No. The more low key we can keep this, the better. I don't particularly want to go down to Australia with a whole troop of bodyguards or the like. What the others don't know can't really hurt them, now can it?"

Lupin pursed his lips. "I don't know, Erin," he said. "It doesn't seem like a good idea not to tell them."

"Oh, come on now, Remus. How on earth am I going to seize the day if I've got half the Order on my tail, huh?" He looked confused. "Whatever. Carpe diem."

* * *

The orientation hostess from their hotel had a very fast gait. What with an entire Quidditch team plus their friends and family behind her, Erin thought the least she could do would be to slow down slightly. Erin grimaced slightly as she hoisted her suitcase into a better grip and practically ran after the woman. Beside her, Baron Flint had magicked his suitcase, although he was having a difficult time as it was without being laden down with the extra weight.

"This is room 132," the hotel lady said loftily, stopping in front of a door abruptly. With a quick wave of her wand, the door sprang open. "I believe this is the Keeper's room." Cevin Harrow stepped forward with a scowl on his face. Erin wasn't sure as to why; the room was spectacular with its high arching ceiling and cream paintjob. _Let him have his moods_, her dismissed, _so long as he'll perform well on Tuesday._ The woman had already moved on.

"Over here we have room 140," the woman continued, without ever really stopping. "This is for a Beater and the three Chasers." She unlocked the door and looked expectantly around her, not noticing that Baron Flint had already entered the room. Erin's breath was taken away as she saw the huge, cathedral like ceilings and the sweeping curtains hanging from enormous windows. She wanted to explore further but noticed, again, that the rest of the party was well on their way down the next corridor.

"Single room for the Beater," the lady said quickly, not even giving a room number before she was off down the hall. Erin smiled apologetically at Lisa, who looked quite forlorn at being the only person in her room.

"Hey, I'll be down in a sec. Just as soon as I figure out where my room is." Erin sprinted to catch up with the crowd. She had just missed the introduction of the Day family to its new home for the next few days.

"Hawthorne Bates and his extended family...room 152." Bates grinned as the door to his particular suite was opened and his numerous grandkids streamed into the shining room. He and his wife entered more slowly, although Erin could tell his wife was eager to look over the furniture. The hotel lady hadn't moved. "Across the hall, room 153, is where the Rauros and Campbell families will be staying." The door was unlocked and the crowd diminished slightly. "In room 154 the Wite family staying at Cevin Harrow's request." After 154's door was unlocked, and the Wite family inside their room, Erin, Lupin, and Tonks were left alone with the uptight hostess. She took off again and didn't stop until they were nearly at the end of the hall.

"Attached single and double," she said dully now, as if bored, but Erin couldn't see why she wouldn't be. "Have a good game." _Like you want _us_ to have a good game. What about your Aussies?_ The woman's high heals clicked all the way down the hall until they finally faded when she reached a jog in the corridor. Remus led the way into their condominium.

"It seems nice," he shrugged, setting his tattered suitcase at the foot of a sleek, modern sofa. Erin looked around after placing her suitcase next to Lupin's. Nice, Erin decided, was an understatement.

"Very posh," Tonks agreed, staring around, "very posh indeed."

"I guess so." Erin snorted at their exchange as she took in all the splendor of the room.

The ceiling was very high and a beautiful glass chandelier hung from its peak. A nice bay window revealed none other than the Sydney bay. The walls were painted a stunning, pale blue and everywhere massive paintings of sailing ships hung on the walls. A cherry writing desk stood off at one end of the moderately sized entrance room. It blended perfectly into the dark red hue of the floors.

"Wow," Erin whispered. "When the manager said that the hotel was going to be nice, I didn't think we'd be staying in a place like this."

Tonks squealed in delight. "Whoa, check this out!" she cried, lining her bags alongside Erin's and bolting over to a corner of the room Erin hadn't paid much attention to. "Awesome! It's a spiral staircase! Do you think I can slide down it?" Lupin and Erin walked over to meet her.

"I'd say that was a negative," Lupin answered. "We only just got here. You shouldn't destroy it, yet."

Erin gave them both dark looks. "Or at all, I should say," she added. Tonks was downcast. "Go check out your room." Tonks nodded, picked up her bags, and opened an adjoining door, muttering to herself all the way. Fairly soon, Lupin and Erin heard another peal of content laughter.

"Ha! Erin I've got one too! Ruddy excellent."

"Tonks," Erin warned, "don't..." But there was nothing Erin could do. Before Erin could so much as finish her sentence, there was a 'thud' in the next room followed by a meek 'ow' from Tonks. "You're hopeless, Tonks." There was a muffled reply.

"I think this will be a most enjoyable stay," Lupin commented from the bay window. Erin hadn't even heard him leave. Erin moved towards him, noticing in the bright spring light that his gray hairs were increasing in number.

"Have you forgotten your suspicions already?" she asked.

Lupin shook his head. "No," he said wearily, "not yet." There was another loud thud from the room next door. "It will take quite a bit of convincing to get me to forget that."

"Hell, we've got time," Erin said with a laugh. "The game doesn't start until Tuesday." Lupin grinned.


	23. The Finale

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: The Finale**

"I dunno, Bates," Erin whispered before the Welsh International Team filed into the play room. "I dunno if I can do this."

The old Beater gave her a hearty slap on the back and laughed. "Of course you can, Langhart," he replied, voice full of confidence. "Of course you can. You did when we played the EAT."

Erin groaned and stood up from the sofa she had been sitting in. "Yeah sure, Bates, but I was playing then. I'm gonna feel so helpless if I'm just another spectator."

Bates nodded solemnly and stood up, fetching himself a glass of water from the kitchenette. "I felt the same way the first big game I coached," he said over the tinkle of water from the faucet. "Heck, sometimes I still do, but there's nothing you can do about it." Erin sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You want to be playing in this one. No. I reckon you'll get hurt even as it is, without having you in the front lines of battle." He gulped down half the cup of water and smacked his lips.

"But what do I say to them, Bates?" Erin asked, wrought with uncertainty. "You always have some great speech up your sleeve. Me? I've got nothing." She held her head in her hands. "What am I going to tell them? They're going to come in here expecting one of your grand speeches and I'll just gawk at them as though I were crazy."

Bates chuckled from the kitchenette. "Some of us don't doubt that you already are crazy," he snorted. Erin rolled her eyes and Bates rose from his slouched stance and sidled over to where Erin stood. "You've got it, kid, that's what I keep telling you. You're a natural born leader, no matter what you think up there." He gave her forehead a flick.

"Ouch."

"Once you let go of that illusion you've made for yourself then, Merlin! You'll be a whole new person." Erin looked pained. "Just tell them what's on your mind. Who cares what you talk about? I sure don't. Talk about the weather, talk about how this stadium used to be a piece of crap, talk about your last game here. I don't care. Give them hints about the sun angles, about common wind patterns." Bates shrugged. "Get them up to speed with these slick Aussies. There's really nothing to it."

Erin glared at him. "Says the greatest Quidditch coach of the twenty first century." Bates roared with laughter as the WIC filed in.

* * *

"Welcome one and all to this highly anticipated, and quite unexpected, match up between the Welsh International Club and your very own Australian Rage! Let's give a special welcome to the Welsh team for coming all the way down from England!" The crowd at the packed Australian stadium clapped politely as the Welsh team flew out from their starting box. Erin recognized Theo Elder's voice as he called out her team's names. "The Chasers: Captain Baron Flint, Eldon Rauros, and James Day! Their Beaters: Lisa Campbell, and our very own Alan Knars!" The stadium erupted with enthusiastic applause for their former Beater. "Seeker, none other than Hugo Narthing!" The crowd hadn't subsided. "And Keeper Cevin Harrow, nephew of Ode Harrow!" At the mere mention of the Australian's glorious Keeper, the stadium roared. Theo called them to a quick order.

"And now, the Rage!" he cried in his best announcer voice. "I give Benny Blaire, Sean Troy, and Kaylib Smith as your Chasers; Colane Geofferson and Corbet Frans as your Beaters; Adrian Lynch as your Seeker, and none other than Ode Harrow..." No one could hear the end of his sentence; the crowd exploded as Ode flew into the stadium. From their seats just level with Quidditch hoops, Erin was relieved she didn't have to point the aging Keeper out to Lupin. He noticed Harrow the moment that the Australian team flew onto the field. "Whenever the referees are ready, let the game begin!" And the game did.

Miraculously, Baron Flint was somehow able to gain possession of the Quaffle first and he streaked towards the Australian goal posts. There was no way, Erin realized without really giving the thought much attention, that the Welsh team was going to score in the opening minutes against Ode Harrow. But he did.

Erin wasn't quite sure how Flint managed it, but with a quick series of breath taking swerves, dives, loops, and spins, the Quaffle was through the hoop, mind Flint went with it, and Ode Harrow had a look of confusion and pure outrage writ across his face. Erin whooped with joy. That would certainly keep the Australian _Rage_, Erin rolled her eyes at the fancy new name they had come up for themselves, on their toes. Ha, let them think the Welsh Club was a blow over. Erin chuckled to herself while Lupin tried in earnest to listen to the commentary.

"Shush, Erin, the guy just said something important," Lupin complained, leaning towards the tall box seats where Theo Elder's voice began. Erin sighed.

"Remus," she said earnestly, keeping an eye on the Quaffle, "there's not a thing that the guy doesn't say that you can't see for yourself. Believe me, I had to listen to his gab for six years." Lupin seemed to be willing to take her advice. "It's not all that hard to watch a game without the commentary. All you have to do is keep an eye on the Quaffle." Lupin stared out to the field. "Honestly, I thought _you_ of all people would know that."

"Well, maybe I do," Lupin replied grumpily, but he gave Erin a playful wink. "Who knows?" Erin shook her head in amusement as his arm encircled her shoulders. "So tell me what's going on." Erin rested her head on his arm and pointed to where the Australian Chaser she recognized as Blitz was swerving down the field with the Quaffle under his arm and a Beater on either side of him.

"Okay, see him there?" Lupin nodded. "Well, if I'm not mistaken, they're doing the Bannermen formation. The two Australian Chasers over there, see them?" Erin pointed them out immediately. "They're going to swerve in and then Blitz, that's the one with the Quaffle," the live action began to unfold before their eyes. "Blitz is going to pass it to the Chaser on the left," Blitz did, "and then it will be a pass to the other Chaser, and a shot. See Cevin? He's already in position for the other Chaser's shot. He's good."

"You're good," Lupin whispered.

Erin laughed. "I'm good at memorizing plays. Ugg. Three playbooks read in less than a month. That was like writing with my right hand, upside down, while looking in a mirror." Lupin laughed.

The game continued slowly, at a fairly even score, although no more wicked goals were scored on Ode. He missed more than normal, which led Erin to believe that either this was his last game he was going to play or he was extremely distracted. Whatever the case might be, Erin was happy that at least he was giving the Welsh Club a chance to win their first World Cup. Cevin wasn't doing a remarkable job either, and the score was well into the one hundred point range by noon.

Erin had heard stories about the Australian Seeker, Adrian Lynch, from many sources, including Harry, Ron, Tonks, Ginny, Fred and George, Ron, and lastly Lupin himself. All said that in the World Cup Ireland versus Bulgaria Lynch had performed horribly. Erin wished he would do the same, although Hugo Narthing was no Victor Krum. Luck, or some accident, would be the game winner today.

In fact, the game appeared to have neither luck nor any accidents. Besides the occasional goal scored on either of the Harrows, the only luck that Erin saw was that the fountain drink seller passed by Tonks, Lupin, and Erin's seats twice. The game was so boring that were it not for a mildly interesting, and extremely painful looking, incident, Erin probably would have drifted off in the wonderfully warming Australian sunlight. Thankfully, at least for Erin, that proved not to be the case.

"Hey, Erin," Tonks whispered, prodding Erin out of a daydream, "check this out." Erin sat up groggily, laughed when she saw that Lupin had also fallen asleep, and looked to where Tonks was pointing on the field. "Isn't that...the Baulkner..." Erin shook her head, cutting her friend off.

"No," she answered, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. "No, I doesn't look like it. I'd think we'd know for sure if it were because Baulkner's Suicide looked very _unique_." Erin yawned. "No, that's the Varna Attack. Developed in India. It's mostly with the Beaters. Watch..." The sun, which had been hiding behind a thin cloud, pierced the shadows suddenly.

Two Beaters, Alan Knars and a squarely built Corbet Frans, had been battling in between their teams' Chasers, rocketing an extremely fast moving Bludger from one bat to the other. As the Chasers moved on, Knars broke from the Beater frenzy to follow the Chasers, and tried to find the other Bludger. Corbet Frans, eager not to let his own Chasers go unprotected, sped after Knars. Unfortunately, right as the sun emerged from the cloud, Frans moved up behind Knars, ready to intercept an incoming Bludger. Knars, surprised by the sudden sunlight, stopped abruptly, sending Corbet Frans, who had not yet slowed to a stop, flying into this back. The collision thew Knars forward, almost off his broom, and Frans, who sat up quickly after the impact, was hit in the face by the Bludger that neither of them had successfully deflected. There was a loud groan from the crowd.

"Oh, that looked like a nasty hit from behind by Corbet Frans," Theo Elders voice cut through the hushed crowed. "It looks like he'll have to be momentarily taken from the game to check for a concussion. Alan Knars appears to be fine, other than a little rattled." Erin gaped in stupefaction as Knars swerved away from the site of the crash.

"Damn that looked like it _hurt_," Tonks whispered, biting her finger in anticipation. "He _does_ look alright, though." Lupin had woken up when the sun made its appearance.

"He doesn't look like he's in prime condition," Lupin mumbled, blinking furiously. Erin stared at Knars as he flew towards the Australian goals. Lupin was right. Knars' left eye was red and partially closed, his nose was bleeding, and a thin cut ran down his cheek. It was bleeding profusely.

"That's really not good," Erin mumbled, shocked. "He took a direct hit to the back. That's grounds for suspension from the league, especially since it was a Beater that hit him..." Lupin, now more awake, put a hand on Erin's.

"That's enough," he told her, but looked rattled himself. "I'm sure the referee knows the rules just as well as you do." Erin sighed, very worried.

"But with a Beater gone from one team..."

"Knars doesn't look like he's all the way there either," Tonks added.

Erin pondered that for a second. "Okay, so a Beater gone from each team," she corrected quickly, "then this game is going to get very bloody very fast. It's actually against the Quidditch ordinance 289 to even run a practice without both Beaters. It's supposed to cut down on off game injuries." Lupin shrugged.

"Maybe they'll be more cautious." Erin glanced his way as though she thought he were crazy. _I'll be damned if the Welsh are so much as cautious,_ she thought to herself, shaking her head. _No, and I know these Aussies. Under Ode's thumb, they'll fight to the last drop._

Caution was wishful thinking on Lupin's behalf. After the injuries, both teams stepped up the aggression a notch; Tonks pointed out that Alan Knars didn't look like he was purposefully doing so, but such was his state. And, true to Erin's prediction, the game did become much more gory, although the interest level of the crowds rocketed. By the end of the fifth period, there wasn't anyone on the field that hadn't been grazed at least once by a Bludger.

The real problems began when the Bludgers started to not only attack the players on the field, but members of the crowd as well. Numerous spectators had to be carted out of the stands due to minor bone ruptures, black eyes, and one or two broken teeth. Erin was puzzled as to why anyone would be dumb enough not to dodge a Bludger aimed at your face. Apart from the considerable spectator injuries, the majority of the crowd remained to watch the game; Theo Elder sent a message out that anyone with small children should seriously consider departing for their children's safety. Lupin was quick to point out that they should probably go since Tonks was with them. After a brief brawl, with Erin in between trying desperately to watch the game, Lupin finally apologized and bought everyone another round of lemonade.

"Hey, Erin, did you see them score on Harrow? Did ya?" After a small dose of the rich lemonade, Tonks was not only annoying Erin and Lupin, but everyone that was sitting in their general area. "Did ya?"

"Yes, Tonks," Erin groaned. "Now you'll be wanting to tell me that the score is now tied at 150, I suppose?"

"Well now I don't have to, do I?" Erin looked to Lupin for help. He grinned, taking a gulp of his lemonade. Erin rolled her eyes.

"Tonks, why don't you go take a walk?" Lupin wondered. Tonks nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, alright. Sounds like fun." She stood up, taking her lemonade with her.

"Why'd you get rid of her?" Erin asked, watching Tonks wind her way through the endless legs of their fellow game-watchers. "She wasn't being _that_ annoying."

"No," Lupin admitted, "but I've been around Tonks long enough to know that within a few minutes of the barely annoying stage, she'll really start going haywire and then move into the zone of no return," he added ominously.

Erin snorted and was startled when Lupin gently pulled her towards him, kissing her gingerly. "Wow," Erin chuckled silently, gratefully leaning into his arms, "what was that for?"

Lupin smirked masterfully and kissed her again before answering. "Who knows when the next time I'll be able to catch you off guard like that," he whispered, holding her tightly.

"Probably tonight," Erin laughed. Lupin shook his head in amusement, cheeks slightly reddening. "So, you're still worried something will happen?"

"A little bit," Lupin replied, looking uncomfortable. "I just don't think that this is right, Erin. Something's going to happen; it's just one of those imminent things, I suppose." Erin pursed her lips and returned her attention to the game, but she didn't bother to move from Lupin's arms.

"I don't think anything will happen," she said optimistically, but she doubted her own words the moment she said them. "I think that it's a much safer place now. Did you see all the security guards around?"

"Well, I don't want to sound like a complete pessimist, but I don't think they'll be able to do anything if..." Erin shook her head slightly, Lupin got the hint. "If _He_ shows up spontaneously. There's not much anyone can do." Lupin hugged her tight. "And losing you is not an option." He jumped in surprise as Tonks vaulted her chair and promptly sat down.

"Well," she said deviously, "that certainly was a tender moment back there. Good thinking sending me away." Erin sat up straight in her chair and Lupin looked embarrassed. Tonks chortled. "Naw, it's okay. I kinda suspected that's why you sent me away in the first place."

"That, and the fact you're bloody annoying," Lupin responded darkly. Tonks could only grin.

Erin stood up from her seat in the bleachers half an hour later, hoping to find a way out of the maze of spectators before her bladder decided to rupture. The quick change from being seated to standing made her slightly light-headed. For a moment, she wobbled around, groping for a railing she could stabilize herself on. She found one with her knees and, not being able to see much more than foggy, unrecognizable shapes, lost her balance and nearly toppled onto the field, several stories below. Lupin, thankfully, leapt from his seat and steadied her. Tonks, who had been enjoying her lemonade, screeched a warning that neither Erin nor Lupin could understand, and proceeded in trying to tackle them both. Sadly, she did nothing of the sort. A rogue Bludger, traveling a remarkably straight path, collided with the three of them and sent them flailing onto the field.

The impact with the ground never came.


	24. Snape's Awakening

_Yes, well, terribly sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I've been bogged down with homework and anything else that COULD go wrong, HAS gone wrong. So, although it isn't fair to you, I think I've a pretty acceptable excuse. This is, unless I've counted wrong, is the third-to-last chapter. So, enjoy it while you can because its sequel will be much slower in the updating, if you can imagine that. Right o._

_J.S:_

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Snape's Awakening**

The endless fall was suddenly stopped when, it seemed like ten minutes later, Erin, Lupin, and Tonks collided with a hard floor. Hushed voices broke out above them as Erin tried to disentangle herself from her friends. Lupin, it appeared, had been knocked out cold, and Tonks looked mildly dazed.

"Who the bloody hell are the other two?" a worried voice asked.

It was hushed by another. "Shut up. When is Harrow coming?"

"You blery shut up, you warthog," the first voice said. "You can bloody curse me if I know."

The second voice growled menacingly. "Uh oh. It looks like they're awake."

"Or at least one of them is."

"Come on," the first voice suggested quickly, "lets separate them before they realize where they are." There was a scuffling of boots and Lupin and Tonks' bodies were dragged away and out of the room. A blinding red flash erupted in front of Erin's eyes, and then everything went dark.

* * *

Erin heard a wicked laugh as she was shoved down to the ground. Her body hurt like fire. _Where am I?_ She wondered, picking her head just slightly off the ground. _What happened to the Bludger? Or Remus? _The first coherent thought to enter her head was not a good one. _Damn, we've been captured_. That one was hard enough to figure out. _How?_ she asked herself. _Unless..._ She saw it. The Bludger had been a portkey. She grimaced and saw a pair of boots move away from her. _Bloody hell. That probably means that Luka_...if she hadn't been still recovering from her long fall, the impact, and being knocked out, Erin probably would have had the sense to panic. As it were, she lay where she was, groggy and a little less confused than she ought to be.

"You have her, Rodolphus?" a cold, impatient voice asked.

"Yes, my lord." Something was slightly familiar about the manner in which Rodolphus answered, although Erin had no clue as to whom they were talking to. She was sure that Luka's voice was higher than that. _Maybe he's been taking steroids_. "And we have others."

"Others, Rodolphus? What do you speak of?" The edge was gone from the voice. A quiet confusion had taken its place. "I only told you to bring her."

The boots in front of Erin shifted slightly. "I know, my master," Rodolphus answered. "I only brought her, the others followed. Crabbe? Goyle? Bring them forward!" Erin winced as someone trod on her hand. Four sets of feet shuffled before her. "I have here the werewolf and the auror Tonks." Erin looked up in surprise, rising to her elbows. Surely enough, Lupin stood directly in front of her, bound and gagged, but not struggling. _That's a bit weird,_ Erin admitted, but was distracted by Tonks. She was fighting her captor inventively, as both her arms were also tightly bound.

"You let her go," Tonks shouted. _Ah,_ Erin thought, now partially comprehending her predicament. _So that's why I had no clue as to who the hell he was. Well, that's making nice sense now_. Her thoughts were interrupted by Tonks' voice. "You're not going to get away with this! Dumbledore will come." _Oh, that's doubtful_, Erin groaned.

Voldemort took a menacing step towards her, chuckling. "By all means, let him come, Nymphadora Tonks," he whispered, red eyes boring holes through Tonks. Erin grimaced. "I wouldn't want him to miss what we've been planning. Sadly, there is no way he would know; we have been too crafty for his old eyes. He was not forewarned and no one in England knows either." He took another step closer. "I've heard a lot about you from Rodolphus." Rodolphus Lestrange, hovering near Voldemort's elbow, laughed brutally. "Apparently, you have quite the devious mind. I could use more capable minds."

For a second, Tonks stood perfectly still, looking between Voldemort and Rodolphus. "What?" she asked. "I'm not going to fucking join you! I'm a half blood; all you're going to do is kill me!" Tonks paused as Voldemort grinned. "You fucking bastard!" _What! You're doing what_, Erin yelled in her mind. _You're cussing the Dark Lord out? Get out, mate!_

"Nonetheless, Nymphadora," Voldemort sneered. "Your dear aunt has told me so much about you. I wouldn't let the opportunity go to get more of your mother's blood in my ranks." Tonks stood dumfounded. Voldemort's face grew stony once more. "Take her away!" Erin watched them hustle Tonks away from Voldemort. _Tonks' aunt's a Death Eater? And Tonks is a half blood?_ She asked herself. _Whoa, I didn't know about that, probably for good reason too. I'm not very proud I'm related to the cruelest man Down Under..._ Her thoughts were abruptly cut short.

"Remus Lupin," Voldemort hissed, teeth clenched, as he neared Lupin. Lupin stood tall, neither moving nor showing any emotion. _I hope he knows what he's doing_, she thought. "You've evaded me long enough, werewolf," he spat. "I shall enjoy destroying you personally."

"What an honor," Lupin sneered sarcastically. "You wouldn't imagine how I would feel if you weren't the one to kill me; how perfectly dismal it would be. Dejected, you know. Is it that much different from being shot down by Lucius here? I've heard that the actual part of dying is the same no matter what...I could be gravely mistaken." Lupin grinned. "I could only dream you've invented another Keverda curse." Voldemort whipped his wand out and pointed it between Lupin's eyes. _Oh, shit,_ Erin moaned. _Now he's gone and done it. The fool._ She pushed herself up and felt a foot come slamming down between her shoulder blades. _Oof! Bloody Death Eater bastard._

"Shall I teach you the feeling of pain?" he whispered, spitting in Lupin's face. Lupin calmly wiped it away. "You're correct about death. The moment of passing is all the same, but the manner of death is very much different." Lupin shrugged. "Would that make you fear me if I were to torture you first?" His answer was a sardonic smile. "_Crucio!_" Voldemort cried with anger. Lupin collapsed to the floor, twitching. _That bastard Voldemort,_ Erin growled as she watched, helpless to do anything. _Come on, Remus, fight it off._ She was amazed at how detached she felt. She wasn't worried about him, she was strangely confident, more numb. It was odd; she'd felt the sensation before. Her dream of Liam and the fire crept into her mind. _NO!_ she screamed silently. _That never happened. The fire...it...it was a...dream. Liam...he wouldn't...do something like that. That was...a...dream...I wasn't there, didn't do anything..._

A cold voice awoke her from a fitful slumber.

"Is this her, Jensen?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes, my lord."

"Bind the others," Voldemort ordered. "I want her unbound and free when we take her to Luka. Watch her personally, Lucius; this cannot fail." Voldemort spun on his heel and walked briskly away. "Where is Bella?" There was a sigh of dissatisfaction. "She's never here when I need her. Bella!"

"Dolohov," Jensen drawled, "help me get her up." Erin felt two hands grab her jersey and hoist her into the air. When they set her down, she almost crumpled to the floor again but was caught. Jensen shoved her up. "Stand, Langhart!" he commanded.

_I'm no damn dog_, Erin sneered defiantly. "Were I a dog, Jensen," she muttered. "I'd piss on your daks." A sneer appeared alongside Jensen's nose. _Hell_, Erin thought, _Snape's a whole ton better at leering at someone than this creep is_. "Why are you taking me to Luka? Is Voldemort some kind of errand runner now?"

Jensen's eyes flashed. "If I wasn't obligated to protect you, Erin Langhart," he said, trailing off. He spun his elegant cane in his hand. "My master is overly cautious."

Erin snorted, a foggy feeling still overwhelming most of her senses. "Yeah, well aren't we all glad." In the distance, they could all see Voldemort looking for Bella.

"Bella?" the master snapped. "There will be hell to pay!" However, Bella wasn't anywhere close enough to hear her master's call. In fact, she probably wouldn't have heard it if she had been.

* * *

Snape woke up and blinked a few times before he realized exactly the condition he had woken up in. His arms were shackled in iron padlocks, bolted to the wall, two or so feet above his head; his feet just barely touched the ground. Struggling to look around, Snape did notice a few things. One, he was trapped in a dark, wet, stone basement he found rather like the dungeons he worked in at Hogwarts. Secondly, his thick outer robe had been removed, leaving only his thin, cotton shirt and wool breeches to protect him from the frigid air. _Damn's colder than Hogwarts,_ Snape thought. _At least Dumbledore is considerate enough to keep the house elves running fires_. This irritated him immensely.

Snape shivered as a cold blast of air rushed through a barred window. The stars, shining brilliantly against a clear, dark blue sky, were barely visible from the basement window well. They cast a faint, bare light into his chamber. Snape could hear the wind rushing across some vast, open plain. _How did I get myself into this? _he asked himself. _What even happened?_ He couldn't remember much, or anything recent, for that matter. A huge chunk of his memory had vanished. A door somewhere above him opened. Rich, golden light flooded into the stone dungeon.

"Well, hello, Severus," a overly sweet, feminine voice came from the stair case leading up to the door. "I see you've woken up."

"How kind of you to notice, Bella," Snape grunted, squinting in the bright light. "You wouldn't have any part in why I'm like this, would you?" he asked.

Bella laughed girlishly as she began down the stairs. "Always cynical, aren't you Severus."

"Normally, yes," he agreed with a hearty yawn; he wanted desperately to rub the sleep from his eyes, actually wake up, but his shackles prevented any movement other than breathing, and even that was difficult. Bella stepped into the sliver of starlight that bled across the floor. Her wand was held in front of her, her eyes dancing with malice. Snape watched her suspiciously, face remaining blank, as he tried to stay awake. He nodded off involuntarily.

Bella chuckled, stopping in front of Snape. "Wakey, wakey, Sev," she cooed, giving his noes a playful tweak. Snape jerked awake. "Little Sevvy want to play?"

Snape sneered groggily at her baby voice. "Tell me, Bella," he said dully, still half asleep, "is that something you picked up at Azkaban?" Bella's gaze darkened. "I heard people do go insane there, but truthfully, I've never met someone who escaped." Snape glowered as he remembered. "Actually, I did, but he's dead now. So there."

"Azkaban was what you escaped, traitor, when you turned yourself into Dumbledore," she hissed. "My lord will never truly trust you again."

"Really, Bella," Snape said, "who trusts me at all anymore? Tell me something I don't know." Snape knew that if he pushed that argument any further, and how Bella was the one with the wand, things would get messy in a hurry. He tried to continue, but Bella cut him off.

"If you wish, Severus," she replied sweetly, but faltered purposefully.

"What?" he inquired skeptically. "You know something I don't?" _Bullshit._

"I know a great deal of things you don't," she whispered, stepping closer to where Snape was chained to the wall. Snape pulled his head back as the inches between their faces became an inch. She ran a playful hand through his shaggy hair. _Bella, always thinks she can seduce any man within twenty feet of her...Sheesh!_ Snape rolled his eyes. "What? Don't want to know?"

"Not like this," he spat. "I won't beg for it," he said arrogantly, "and you know it. Why, how many times have you tried to seduce me before, Bella? Plenty of times," Snape hissed, answering his own question in the same breath. "And you've never been successful once, have you?"

Bella threw her head back and laughed richly. "Oh you sick dog," she murmured irresistibly. "You reject me, but you had an affair with my sister when my noble brother-in-law's back was turned? I haven't told him...yet." Bella smirked cruelly and wrapped her arms around Snape's neck as his eyes widened slightly with surprise. "What? You didn't think I knew?"

"You've had Lucius in bed before too," Snape countered. Bella didn't seem to be as offended as Snape had hoped she would be. Bella chuckled again, softly, and kissed him blatantly. Snape tried to pull away, disgusted, but found himself entranced by Bella's fervid kiss. He leaned into it and closed his eyes, forgetting where he was, who he was, who Bella was, what anything was. He groaned when she broke the kiss, blinded by it. His heart stopped for a second when she leaned against him, kissing him passionately once more. Captivated, Snape opened his eyes, expecting to see Narcissa, but saw only Bella. Suddenly, his mind was his own again. Bell jumped back with shock as a strong spell warded Snape from her.

"You," Snape whispered, absolutely appalled. "You think yourself strong enough to trick me?" Bella smiled. "Take a step back will you?" Bella remained unmoved, apparently missing his request. Snape was oddly haunted by her kiss.

"But, Sev," she said silkily, "I've already won. Don't tell me you don't want me."

Snape arched his eyebrow and snorted in disgust. "I don't want you," he said blandly. Bella's eyes hardened. "Now, if you knowing about Narcissa, was the information you've been withholding from me, then you're game is up." He pretended he didn't care, but if word of that got out...Snape could tell by the malicious look in Bella's eyes he hadn't guess correctly. "Tell me!" he ordered.

"Only if you kiss me like that again," Bella jeered.

"I won't."

Bella looked annoyed. "Well then, I won't tell you." Snape sighed. _It's best to remain unaffiliated than to choose the wrong group,_ he reminded himself, _and it's better to be only half interested. That way they can't weasel any information out of you_. "I'll tell you if you do what I want you to," she whispered, resorting to her baby talk once more. "Does that sound like a deal, Sev?"

"My name is not 'Sev'," Snape growled. "It is no deal." Bella pretended to pout. "You'll get over it. I've already told you your fun is ended. Now, get me out of these infernal things?"

Bella laughed wickedly. "How do you think I'll have any more _fun_ if you're allowed to defend yourself?" she asked.

"Truthfully, Bella," Snape replied, "I don't think you'd have very much fun anyway. There's no need to prove you can torture anyone to pure insanity. Why, the Longbottoms are a fabulous example of your...expertise."

"They would never have gotten that way if they had more backbone than flab," she retorted, still holding her wand up. "Besides, Sev, that's not what I had in mind." Bella smiled and reached up to stroke his face with long nails.

"Get your hands away from me," Snape ordered sharply. He inwardly laughed as he realized he resorted to his 'intimidating teacher' demeanor. "And either help me or leave."

"You're a very different man when your mind is your own, Sev," Bella noticed. "And I rather like it when you don't know what's going on. Any other offers," Bella asked, looking up at him with heavily lidded eyes.

"No," Snape spat, arms beginning to feel pins and needles. "That's it. Nothing else on the floor."

"Oh, but, Sev," she murmured, "we hadn't done anything on the floor. I was hoping you would..." Snape gnashed his teeth, seething. "You know. After all, Narcissa told me you were quite the lover."

"I have found that what Narcissa says and what is true are two completely different things," Snape barked. "Don't pry into my private life, Bella, or I'm sure you'll find things you wished not revealed."

"We'll see, shall we?" Bella smirked, intrigued, as she pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at Severus's forehead. "I'm not going to allow any other deal on my floor beside the one that I put there." Snape sneered, rolling his eyes and envisioning strangling Bella. "What, above me?"

"Yes," Snape growled. This_ can't be good if she's enjoying this_, he gulped. _No. Damn!_ His mind raced. _Got to change the subject,_ he told himself, sweat rolling down his forehead. _I can't let her get any more out of me. Got to get that wand..._"Well, tell me what you have to say!" he ordered, drawing attention away from him.

Bella's brow crinkled. "Hmm..." She thought about it for a second. "No." Snape fought hard to restrain himself from uttering curses that would cause even his ears to burn. But the diversion had worked. She lowered her wand.

"Bella," he said quietly, looking at the floor. Fury radiated off him. "I'll count to three, and then you'll tell me." He glanced up, watching her black eyes dance. "One...two...three. Cue Bella."

"I'll tell you nothing."

Snape sighed. "_Incarcerous!_" he bellowed suddenly. It took Bella a split second to understand what he'd said, but by that time, ropes were already binding themselves around her wrists. She collapsed to the floor, her wand clattering to the ground beside her. "_Silencio!_" The cursing that Bella had been elaborating ceased immediately. Snape hung in his iron shackles and watched as she tried to spin on the stone floor to reach her wand. "_Accio wand!_" Bella's wand flew into his somewhat movement-hindered hand. "_Alohamora_." His shackles unlocked and Snape caught himself as he tumbled to the floor.

* * *

"There you have her, Luka," Voldemort snarled at the approaching man. Luka's good eye stared intently at Erin. Erin watched him with a mixture of fear and fascination. She was amazed at how brave he was. She'd heard stories about Voldemort striking one of his followers down just because they'd spoken out of turn. She felt the grip of her captor's hand's around her arms tighten. "Now hand Potter over."

Luka grinned slyly, stopping barely two wand lengths from his nemesis. "Alright, Voldemort," he said slowly, almost daring the other to fight back. "I will, eventually. But first, give her to me."

"Wormtail, bring her forward," Voldemort snapped. Wormtail grappled the struggling Erin towards Luka, but not without difficulty, then faded back behind Voldemort. A huge grin split across Luka's face as Erin was thrown to the ground before him. "There. Now give me Potter." Luka's brow crinkled as he looked up. Erin stood up slowly and moved to Luka's side. Somehow she didn't think that being between Voldemort and Luka would be the best of ideas.

"Why?" he asked. Three of his followers darted forward and hauled Erin behind him. "It would have been much easier if you had just captured him yourself when Rodolphus was that the Order." He laughed richly at Voldemort's confused look. "Yes, Cevin tells me much about your dealings. How you betrayed one of your own servants to serve me..." He trailed off bemusedly. "And look at all the pains I had to go to just to prove that you serve me." He sighed. "It has not been easy, Voldemort, to manipulate you." Luka smirked as a horrid shade of scarlet spread across Voldemort's face...

* * *

Severus pushed himself up off the ground. Walking would take some getting used to; he felt like a marionette with legs the strength of a toothpick. Carefully, he leaned on the wall and turned towards Bella.

"Listen, Bella," he whispered, concentrating more on standing than what he was saying to her. "Even the best wizard can be tricked by a wandless spell. There's nothing to feel bad about." If Bella had been angry, she now looked enraged. "Besides, where am I?" Bella said nothing. "_Finate Inacntatem!_"

"I won't tell you," Bella muttered, seething. Snape shrugged. "And you won't leave either, Severus! _Incendio!_" A great fire sprang around the perimeter of the room. Snape's lip curled in disgust.

"Oh, shut up, Bella, before you cause some real damage. _Silencio!_" Without a wand, Bella was powerless to protect herself from Snape's spell. She fell silent once more. Snape turned a cold shoulder her way and walked slowly towards the flames. "_Aguaeous,_" he murmured and a jet of water shot out of his wand, momentarily creating a path through the wall of fire. He stepped through and turned back around to face Bella. "Your race is run, Bella. I'll figure out whatever it was you wouldn't tell me. I'm good at that, you know." He proceeded cautiously up the stairs, letting the ring of fire close its perimeter once again.

The door at the top of the narrow stone stairs opened to reveal a well-lit cellar room storing various amounts of food and general household supplies. A low wooden table with two benches stood in the center of the room, under a dingy chandelier. A drum of beer was propped on its side on one end of the table; two empty mugs lay on the table. Snape crept over to the table, looking over it prudently. On it, he found a single silver coin. "Australia?" he whispered to himself when he saw the make of the Muggle coin. _What the bloody hell am I doing in Australia?_ He pocketed the coin and opened the only other door leading out of the cellar. A winding set of stairs appeared.

Snape swept silently up the staircase, listening closely to the darkness. The torches that hung on fearsome metal racks burned low; the stones behind their flickering flames were charred and filthy with soot. No one had been down this way for some time. He traveled upward cautious before hearing any noise other than his own footsteps. Away above him, Snape heard two voices. Without hesitating, he pointed his wand at the nearest torch and whispered, "_Asphyxo._" The torch blew out. The voices neared.

"What did the Overlord send us down for?" one man asked. He had a loud, boring voice. _Stupid sounding_, _almost_, Snape guessed.

His companion sighed loudly. "The Overlord did not send us down here for anything. Harrow did. That traitor of Voldemort's is down here." He had a voice of learned patience. Strained patience.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh's right." The voices stopped as they came to the darkened section of the stair. Their footsteps halted. "I guess Warner just forgot to re-light the torches when he came down here." The second voice said uneasily. "Weird though, isn't it? Weren't we just down here say three hours ago?"

"Uh, yeah." Their footsteps continued. Snape lay in wait as they drew nearer, almost emerging from around the central stone pillar. He couldn't see them. That was good, he figured, because they couldn't see him. He could hear them though, and they couldn't hear him. He stilled his breath as he heard them come around the bend. Without so much as scuffing a shoe on the gritty stone step, Snape stood up and pointed his wand in their general direction.

"_Incarcerous!_" he yelled. Seconds later two people tripped over their own feet, now bound together by thick ropes, and fell partially down the stairs separating Snape from them. "_Incendio!_" Snape whispered. The torch lit itself again, dousing the corridor with yellow light. "Hello," he said placidly, as if he'd been expecting them. They didn't struggle, which surprised him. "Where are your wands?"

"We don't have no wands," the larger man said. Snape recognized him as the first speaker he had heard.

His companion shot him an angered look. "You weren't supposed to tell him that, Dero," he hissed under his breath but realized that Snape was listening. "You let us go," he told Snape forcefully, "or my Overlord will have you."

"Duke, who is he?" Duke didn't respond.

"Is the Dark Lord here?" Snape asked, bending down towards Duke. "Where?"

"I won't tell you," Duke said proudly. "And you can't make me." Snape stood up and sighed, pointing Bella's wand at the man. _Typical Muggle_, he thought to himself. _Think that since they know about magic it can't affect them_.

"Really?" Snape wondered incredulously. "I find that hard to believe." He stared darkly at the pair of them, keeping a sardonic smile on his face purposely. "_Silencio!_" Both men stared at him, quite confused. Then Dero tried to speak to Duke. Snape sighed at both their stupidity. "You will tell me if he's here," Snape growled, flicking the end of his wand, "or you will suffer. Now, don't you agree?" There was a silence, undoubtedly caused by the fact neither of the men could talk. Finally, Duke nodded. "_Finate._"

"Voldemort, that's who you're after?" Duke asked. Snape shuddered, nodding once. "He's here."

"Why?"

"Luka wouldn't tell us..." Duke realized what he'd said and put a hand over his mouth. Snape sneered triumphantly. "Wait, you can't say anything about..."

Snape waved his wand and the man fell silent. "I owe you a great deal, Muggle," Snape murmured and stepped over the bound man agilely. "Good luck getting out of those ropes. I may just live long enough to tell someone about you two...and Bella." He grinned evilly. "_Aguaeous._" The room was left to darkness once more as Snape left the two bound men silently.

He arrived at the top of the stairs quickly and was dumped into a long, dark corridor stretching both directions. Without hesitating, he took his chances and stole through the shadows that lined the right hall. He could hear distant, muffled, voices, but as far as he could tell, they weren't drawing any nearer to him. A large double door appeared in front of him out of the darkness. He pulled on one of the polished iron knockers, thinking to himself, _obviously the person who lives here has quite the sum of money. The cellar knockers polished?_ He slid through the door and closed it quickly. _And the hinges aren't even rusty!_ He grew wary. Anyone with that amount of money would keep a guard around, especially if they were in Australia. And it was beyond a doubt they would be under the infamous Luka's control.

Snape wandered further down the hallway. It grew more ornate rapidly. Soon the hard wooden planks turned into beautifully carpeted floorboards. Elaborate pictures, granted _big_ elaborate pictures, began to become more common. The torches were more frequent and burned brighter. And, the din of some conversation became louder.

At last, Snape was sure that it was not just his nearing the central part of the building that was making the voices he was hearing grow louder. He ducked out of view, and behind a large suit of armor, right before a party of people swiftly passed. They were obviously encumbered by something or other.

"It's not that I'm saying anything like that, Jensen," a voice that Snape knew particularly well was saying. "It's that, well, I don't think we should trust Luka at all. He's a lying, deceiving, mudblood who should not be dealt with." There was a grunt of exasperation from Jensen.

"I agree, Dolohov," he spat. "From the very beginning I knew that this whole business was getting out of hand. How did the Dark Lord think that if we could not catch Potter that this _Luka_ could?" Their footsteps stopped. "Oh, stop being such an ill bred fool, Nymphadora!" he growled and Snape heard something hard, presumably a fist or the like, collide with another object. Snape's lip curled into a malicious grin. Soon the small group was moving again. Snape slipped out of his hiding spot and followed them.

Snape snuck through the shadows behind them, making sure he knew whom he was dealing with. He saw four people; one he recognized immediately as Dolohov, the other he assumed was Tonks. The other Death Eater, Jensen, and the other person that was with them were the same height, which made it difficult to decide if the fourth companion was a friend to Snape or a foe.

They arrived back at the big double doors again in a hurry. Everything seemed to be going extra fast to Snape, but he figured it was because he still felt unstable on his legs. _I can't let them get to those two Muggles_, Snape thought, _or they'll know for sure I'm out. And if they even reach Bella..._ He knew he had to act quickly, if he was going to save his hide, Tonks', and whoever else was here with them. Pulling Bella's wand from his shirtsleeve, he leveled it with Dolohov's back. "_Stupefy!_" he whispered, and groaned as the bright red light from the spell illuminated the whole room. The four people turned in surprise and Jensen was hit squarely on the chest. He flew backward several feet and was unconscious before he hit the floor. Dolohov already had his wand out when Snape turned to him.

"You think you're clever, Snape," Dolohov hissed, advancing and leaving his captives alone. This proved quite a neutral gesture, as both slumped to the floor, appearing to be knocked out. "I knew you'd escape. Sending Bella down there wasn't my idea, but I had my suspicions about her from the beginning. She let you out, didn't she."

Snape raised an eyebrow silkily. "I wouldn't know with Bella," he whispered, trying to force Dolohov even farther from his captives by circling around him. Dolohov complied. "She didn't seem to be so keen on letting me out. The way she was talking, it seemed that I was to stay locked down there a while."

"Probably. _Crucio!_" Snape fell to the floor as the bright green curse flew inches above his head. He jumped back to his feet. "_Impedimenta!_" Snape was back on the floor. "_Stupefy!_"

"_Protego!_" Snape had been ready for that one. From the floor, he bellowed, "_Immobulus!_" but Dolohov proved to me more wary than the last of Snape's victims. Snape rolled to his feet and saved himself from being blown to a mere heap of robes.

"You'll never out duel me, Snape," Dolohov roared, sending another barrage of spells Snape's way.

Snape counter spelled them all, and ducked the few he couldn't. "Well, obviously I hold you lower on the dueler's pedestal than some if I even try." Snape brushed his hair from his eyes. "_Obliviate!_"

"_Protego!_ Snape," Dolohov sneered, suddenly enthused, "you know I only play by the other's rules. Was that a challenge? Care to step the duel up?"

Snape stood at ready and rolled his eyes. "Bullshit that you play by other's rules," he spat. "Tell me precisely how'd you land yourself in Azkaban then? Did the person you blow up ask you to do it?" He barely had enough time to duck the Avada Keverda that came his way. "And we really need to work on you aim, Dolohov." This time Snape had to flatten himself to avoid the curse. "_Crucio!_" Dolohov fell to his knees, writhing in pain, as Snape took a deep breath a heaved himself to his feet. "_Petrificus toralus_." Dolohov's limbs snapped to his sides, but he still shook from the torment. Snape slowly lifted his wand. "_Stupefy_. That will be most horrific when you wake up, Dolohov," he sneered.

Snape trotted over to Tonks' side and knelt down, feeling for a pulse. He was somewhat disheartened to find a steady one. "_Ennervate,_" he whispered, and kept Tonks from leaping to her feet when she was fully awake.

"Dolohov," she cried, "where is the bloody fool? Damn, I'll tear him from limb to..." She caught sight of Snape as he stood up and did a double take. "Right o, Severus," she gasped. "Why'd you have to be the first person I see when I wake up? Wait..." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you Severus?"

"You're welcome," he spat, one of his more impressive sneers appearing alongside his nose. "Of course I'm Severus. Why'd you think else wise?"

"Well see, one of the Lestrange brothers impersonated you under the Polyjuice potion," she explained warily. "For a good month or so I thought he was you." Her brows knotted together. "Well I thought he was you until earlier today...Still, it's not like those firecrackers were totally wasted. I mean, my second target with them, if it wasn't you," she explained, "would have been a Death Eater." A look of horror came to her face. "Merlin!" She tore down the hall. "We've got to stop them before they kill Erin!"

Snape stopped dead in his tracks. "What?" he asked, astounded. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

Tonks glared at him, and then saw her comrade that had been captured along with her. She raced over to his side. "Remus?" she asked urgently, shaking his shoulder gently. "Come on, Remus, wake up!" Snape was behind her silently and 'ennervated' him.

Lupin sat up groggily. "Where are we?" he asked drowsily. Snape noticed how badly he looked. _The Dark Lord's work, I'll bet_, he mused, and helped Tonks get him to stand. "Where's Erin?"

"Back with Luka," Tonks replied. "Do you think you can stand? We've got to get going if we're going to save Erin." Lupin nodded and swayed a little as both Tonks and Snape let go. "Come on!"

Lupin looked around gingerly and noticed their fallen captors. "Wait, Tonks," Lupin said slowly. "I'm not going in there unarmed and half dead. Go grab Dolohov and the other guy's wands, why don't you? Then we can get this party started." Tonks grinned in spite of the urgent situation and quickly disarmed the two men. Lupin bowed his head as he was given a wand. "Let's show them what we're worth."

"Which isn't much," Snape muttered darkly. "Just look at us. We've got one man who can't stand, a woman who still thinks with circular logic despite the fact she's an adult, and another man who's been tortured to the brink of madness by the Dark Lord." He huffed indignantly then smirked wolfishly. The smile surprised all three of them, and quickly vanished from Snape's face.

"Quit being a pessimist, Severus," Tonks ordered seriously. "I don't know why we take crap from you." With a severe look at both of her male counterparts, Tonks took off down the hall just slow enough for Lupin to keep up.


	25. The Fab Four Reunited, One Last Time

_Right. I think my apologies are getting a bit old, and if you think about it, I'm pretty good at updating compared to some other people. There, passed the guilt off pretty well, then. Well, the point is, I was working on the sequel for a while and got really far—inspired me to update this one. You see, I've been putting off finishing this story because then I'd have to work even harder on the sequel. But I guess procrastinating always has to come to an end at some point._

_J.S. _

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: The Fab Four Reunited...One Last Time**

Voldemort's aloof calm disappeared as he eyed Luka with loathing. "You'll never get away with this!" Voldemort screamed and in one fluid motion shot the Avada Keverda curse at Luka. He ducked with ease. "I will destroy you, Luka! _Reducto!"_

"_Protego!_" Luka countered fiercely. "Not likely," he said as he brought his wand up. "There are several things that I've predicted, although Seer blood in my family runs rare, and they all end up happening. You destroying me isn't very high up on the list." He put on a mystical air as he watched Voldemort circle around him. "However, I _do_ predict that you'll never call me a mudblood again! _Scourgify!_" Voldemort countered Luka's spell with a wave of his wand, never even bothering to mutter the incantation.

"I'll call you what I want," Voldemort retorted. No one intervened with their duel; it was a much a magic duel as it was one with words. "You can't make me do anything!" With a wild sweep of his wand, Voldemort shouted, "_Imper..._" Luka was ready before Voldemort so much as brought his wand down.

"_Rictusempra!_" he cried, and watched with boyish mirth as Voldemort collapsed to the floor, tickled mirthlessly. Luka's followers broke into loud laughter and Luka bowed. "You know nothing," he said softly. "You are flightless in a winged world, Voldemort. Perhaps I was over cautious with my plan. It does seem to me now that I thought I was dealing with a man who was well beyond your ability." Luka sighed comically. "Oh well." He took a good look at Voldemort, who was still twisting on the floor. Carefully, Luka lifted his wand and Voldemort lay still. Luka chuckled to himself and continued his speech. "Do you really think I would let you escape when you so nicely abided all my requests and fell into my trap? I would be a fool if that were so."

"You're a fool nonetheless," Voldemort countered, standing up and brushing the dirt off his robes. He turned to leave, motioning his followers to do the same. "You've cheated me once, Luka, and you will never do it again." Luka disappeared, then reappeared in front of Voldemort's band.

"Is that so?" he said, looking mildly amused. "Are you one to walk away? You are funny, you know, Voldemort. Very funny. You know, one wouldn't think that the Dark Lord would just walk away after being so nicely ridiculed in front of everyone." Voldemort fumed and tried to push past Luka.

"I have forgiven you," he spat. Luka caught his arm and flung him back towards the Death Eaters. "What do you want?" Luka's lip curled and his eye flashed.

"That scared of me now, are you?" he queried. "Well. If you're that scared of a wizard as corrupt and handicapped as myself, no wonder you try to get rid of people more normal. They scare both of us," Luka laughed. "But I'll tell you something, Voldemort," he whispered, leaning towards the Dark Lord. "Nobody has risen over me yet, so don't feel bad." Voldemort came to an abrupt halt before him. "I won't flatter myself by boasting that I'm as great a wizard as even Dumbledore. No, lies don't work in the real world. Facts do, though. And the fact of the matter is...I am."

"Enough with you're attempts to engage me!" Voldemort ordered. "I'm through with you, your ilk, and all of Australia!"

"Australia is mine, I think we can agree to that, but I am in no way done with you." Luka circled around Voldemort as a wolf would its injured prey. "I am not one for competition, Voldemort. I despise those who believe to be what they aren't." The deformed man laughed wickedly, cold eyes squinting with malice. "That is what I'm cleansing the world of, you Dark Lord."

Voldemort pretended not to understand. "What you say makes no sense, Luka," he breathed. "The Muggles in Britain make more sense than you."

"Perhaps they do, Voldemort," Luka allowed, suddenly somber. "I couldn't tell. Opinion, after all, is what shapes the world. Without it, we would have no morals, no right or wrong. We would be lost, confused, unable to escape our own conflicting minds." Luka lazily closed his eyes and breathed deeply. When he refocused on the Dark Lord, his eyes were fiery.

"You think that your Slytherin is a cause worth fighting for," he began slowly. Voldemort's eyes narrowed at the mention of his ancestor. "Forgive me ahead of time for railing your motives. But I know I'm right.

"You kill Muggles because they're Muggles, don't you? You kill Mudbloods because they're contaminating your precious wizarding world." Luka laughed richly as though Voldemort was committing a childish crime. Luka motioned to himself. "I kill Muggles because they're confused. They think they know how everything should work. They believe that they are the ending result of all evolution." Voldemort listened to Luka's monologue stonily. "But they aren't. Hadn't Blaise Pascal warned them about it? Did he not write _Man and the Universe_ specifically to warn the Muggles?"

"Unlike you," Voldemort growled, cutting in, "I do not go out of my way to learn Muggle ideas..."

"You are no different from any of the Muggles that you destroy," Luka whispered quietly. "Like them, you have this false vision lodged in your head that you, the oh great and powerful Voldemort, should be able to deal death and life to those you choose." Voldemort opened his mouth to object. Luka turned on him quickly, wand once again extended. "Say nothing!" Luka half-heartedly lowered his wand, preoccupied with something else.

"You are contradicting yourself if you dislike people such as myself..." Voldemort began.

"No," Luka countered, "you see, I'm not. I am not disillusioned by the world. I see it for what it is completely." Voldemort stood in brooding silence, apparently torn between listening to Luka's rhetoric and fleeing. "I am only what I appear to be."

"Mudblood," Voldemort cursed under his breath. "You will never be understood by those who you haven't corrupted." The tall Dark Lord brushed past Luka easily.

Luka's calm disappeared immediately as his keen ears heard the curse. "I'm not through with you, Voldemort," he hissed, seething. His scholarly tone had vanished. With a wave of his wand, Luka disappered, only to reappear blocking Voldemort's path to freedom. "You will leave this hall over my dead body."

Voldemort drew his wand. "Your death can be arranged," the red-eyed lord said. Behind him, all his followers unsheathed their wands. Erin might have laughed if her captor hadn't such a tight grip over her mouth. Something about two evil men fighting over something only one of them knew about amused her.

Luka grinned insanely. "I hoped you would say that." He thrust his wand into the air and the candlelight began to flicker. Just as it had been almost a year ago, the room exploded into darkness and the air started to be vacuumed from the room. Erin struggled in her captor's arms, fighting not only to free herself, but also to breathe. Voldemort looked startled, and Luka unaffected. The air screamed in Erin's ears as the pressure built. Suddenly, although this time Erin was ready for it, the room was enveloped with rich red light. Air returned as the eerie off-yellow ghosts of Luka's victims poured from the central fireplace; there were quite a bit more of them this time. Within minutes, they had surrounded both Voldemort and his followers. Luka stood clear of the crowd, still able to see his captive through the translucent bodies.

Voldemort spun in a circle, wand held out before him. At first, he tested a few banishing spells, but nothing worked. His spells grew more dangerous. When he tried killing the ghosts, Luka laughed and walked through the transparent bodies.

"Stop that," he said, as though the whole thing was a game. "Stop it or you'll actually kill someone." He snorted. "Not to mention, trying to kill a ghost won't really work...You see, they're dead already. No point in trying to kill them again." Voldemort fumed, but stood silent. "There that's better. Now, I could conjure up some chairs and we could all sit down to tea. What do you say? I only need to entertain you until I can think of a better thing to do." Luka paused as Voldemort's face turned from pale pink to a horrid shade of scarlet. "Although I daresay I'm the one who's entertained."

* * *

The trio, Snape, Tonks, and Lupin, stopped as they came to an elegantly carved, tall door. They could hear muffled talking. "They're in there," Lupin whispered.

Snape squinted, not convinced. "There's hardly enough sound coming from that room to make an echo in my dungeon at Hogwarts," he drawled. "I thought both the Dark Lord and Luka were in there. This peace couldn't ensue if they were really both in the same room."

"No, Severus, he's right," Tonks agreed. "That's where they are." The three of them exchanged worried glances. "So, what do we do?"

"Well, we can't barge in there expecting a welcome party," Lupin said reasonably.

Snape shot him a dark look. "Shut up, Lupin, unless you have something useful to say." Snape snapped. "Why are we even doing this?"

Tonks stared at him in amazement. "We've got to rescue Erin," she cried urgently, although not loudly. "We can't leave her in there...They'll kill her!"

"That's the idea," Snape mumbled.

Lupin had him by the shirt collar in an instant. "We're going in there, you coward," Lupin hissed, sliding Snape up the wall so that Snape's feet no longer touched the ground. "You and your sadistic ways, Severus. Some people actually care for others. There are people who want a reason to hope." He dropped Severus suddenly, looking nervous. "I say we chameleon ourselves and go on in." Snape rubbed his neck, shooting daggers Lupin's way.

"Sounds fine," Tonks replied. Nodding, Lupin waved his wand and watched at the two people in front of him, and himself, fade into their surroundings. "All ready?" Tonks asked.

"I'll go on in," Lupin whispered, and opened the heavy door. The three of them slipped in, and saw that everyone in the entire audience hall was looking at them. Or, rather, looking past them.

A man with long, red hair stared at the open door and scowled. "Cevin close the door," he ordered. A very tall man concealed in a thick, black cloak, moved forward to close the door. Lupin, Tonks, and Snape dodged out of his way. "Good. Now, as I was saying, Voldemort..." Luka drifted off into conversation with the Dark Lord. For the first time, Snape was able to get a good look of the room. This sight amazed him.

A medium sized group of black figures lined one end of the room. Each had a blue and silver crest sewed onto the back of their cloaks. Harrow moved back into their ranks. _Luka's followers_, Snape thought. _But then, where are the Dark Lord's..._Snape spotted his comrades as soon as he had wondered where they were. A crowd of greenish, wispy figures surrounded a small group of his master's followers. _Odd_, Snape mused. _I wonder what device of Luka's this is. Hmm..._ He suddenly wished he could see Lupin and Tonks, but attempting to find them would be even more dangerous than not. _We're all our own soldiers now,_ he realized. _Let's hope this works out for the best. Or works at all_.

Snape slid between the conjured ghosts and in between his Death Eater comrades. Luka was sitting at a small card table, sipping tea, while Voldemort, seated at the other end of the table, fumed.

"Come now," Luka was saying as he set down his teacup and picked up a deck of red cards. "Don't tell me you don't know how to play Hearts." Voldemort sat in silence as Luka dealt out four hands. "Get two of your best card players; we'll gamble." He picked up his hand and began to arrange his cards. "Voldemort, you know you would have better odds if you cooperated with me. I was going to gamble for your freedom." He sighed. "You there, Nott and Avery, come here."

"I will not play your game again," Voldemort hissed.

Luka rolled his eye and adjusted the patch over his empty eye socket. "But you've already lost," he explained. "What more do you have to lose?"

"Luka," a stern voice said from out of the circle of ghosts. Every head in the room turned towards the voice. Dumbledore stood where Lupin, Tonks, and Snape had all come from, but he stood alone. He hadn't brought anyone with him.

"Dumbledore!" Luka exclaimed in surprise. Not very enthusiastic surprise, but surprise none the less. "How kind of you to drop by. How 'bout a friendly game of hearts with Voldemort, Nott, Avery, and myself? Would you like some tea?" From the way Luka asked, Snape could only guess the tea would be poisoned.

"You're fun is ended," Dumbledore stated solemnly. "Now, I command you to exile these creatures." He gestured to the greenish ghosts. Snape backed away from the card table as Luka stood up quickly.

"I will not be ordered around, Dumbledore," he spat. Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow. "This will not be a day of double dealings."

"It already has been, Luka, in more ways than you can count." Dumbledore clapped his hands together and the ghosts vanished. Voldemort made to escape but was stopped by a grand sweep of Dumbledore's wand. "Fight with me or against me; I gave you that choice from the beginning."

Luka snarled. "You're outnumbered, Dumbledore," he whispered. "You can't win."

Dumbledore nodded. "You yourself told me when you first visited me at Hogwarts that this was not a game to be won, Luka," Dumbledore reminded the red haired lord quietly. "Indeed, I find myself agreeing with you ever more so."

Luka relaxed and sat back down at the card table. "So," he said, conjuring a cigar and lighting it with his wand, "what do you want?"

"I want you to release Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Erin Langhart, and Nymphadora Tonks to me now," the old headmaster said without hesitating. There was a moment as Snape moved towards Dumbledore, hoping to get to him before anything devastating happened.

"Ah, but I don't really want to, old man," Luka sniffed, putting his feet up on the card table and taking a deep puff of his cigar. Voldemort and his followers were forgotten, bound by anti-disapperation charms. Snape watched as Dumbledore's eyes suddenly locked on an invisible point in the air for a second. A small smile crept over the wizard's face. Either Tonks or Lupin was near the headmaster. Snape sped up, trying to get towards Dumbledore.

"There is no point in pretending that either of us is interested in peaceful negotiations when we both know that they will fall well short of my requests," Dumbledore commented.

Luka looked up brightly as he tapped his cigar on the side of the table. "I couldn't have said it better myself, old man," he laughed and crushed the cigar butt, standing up. "So, what type of duel do you want?"

"One solely between you and me," Dumbledore replied.

Luka shrugged. "I could manage that easily enough," he sighed. "What are the stakes?"

Dumbledore pulled his wand back out of his elegant maroon robes. "That you deliver the people I previously named to me when I win."

Luka's eyebrows raised and he bowed. "Seems fair to me," he growled, baring his white teeth. His wand appeared in his hand and he stood up. "To the death?"

Dumbledore bowed. "As you wish."

Erin watched the battle between the two great wizards grow more powerful and more deadly by the second. She could barely see, but she wasn't exactly sure why. Her head pounded from deep inside, and her nose wouldn't breath quite right. One eye was blurry and the other hardly open. The bright flashes she faintly saw hurt her eyes. She supposed, now that her guard had loosened his grip slightly, near-suffocation had those after effects.

Watching the battle from afar wasn't exactly what Erin wanted to be doing, but the idea of being strangled by her captor didn't hit very close to the mark either. Suddenly, she saw a figure appear from thin air, followed closely by the apperation of two others. Erin gaped in shock, seeing first Tonks, then Lupin, and finally Severus appear. Luka was incensed.

"Dumbledore!" he roared above the sound of their battle. "You said that this was to be a single battle! You filthy little liar!" Dumbledore bowed while blocking Luka's curse.

"And so I did," he replied agreeably. "Obviously, these people do not seek to attack you, but your followers." He glanced sternly at Tonks, Snape, and Lupin. "That, or they wish to leave." This was, by Dumbledore, the preferable choice.

A great wave of panic swept over Erin as Lupin stepped forward. "This battle is not yours alone, Dumbledore." Snape and Tonks joined his side, wands drawn. With a subtle command from Luka, seven of his black-robed followers drew away from the wall and sauntered slowly towards the three wizards. Erin's guard was one of the one's to leave. She was handed roughly to another follower.

The battle raged on, neither side gaining the advantage over the other, or at least in the case of Dumbledore versus Luka. Snape, Tonks, and Lupin's battle, however, seemed much more lopsided. Almost as soon as Luka's followers attacked, a bright curse hit Snape in the arm and blood frothed from the wound. Lupin fell to the floor soon afterward faltered. Two of the followers stumbled as Tonks' curse hit them, and were promptly finished off by Snape. Lupin, after struggling to heave himself up to his knees, sank to the floor and lay there motionless. Erin's mind raced, not comprehending anything but her immense feeling of absolute terror.

"Liam," she whispered, scared. "Liam, please help."

"I can't help you, Erin," she heard her new captor say. Erin wrenched her head around in surprise, and sure enough, Liam coldly stared back at her. "There's nothing I can do." Erin looked at him as though he were a completely different man.

Liam had changed. He no longer looked like the fun-loving brother she left a year ago, or even the one who had saved her the first time. His sandy-blond hair was light brown, an indication to Erin he hadn't seen sun in quite some time. Indeed, his skin was pale and thin looking; blue veins swam through his forehead. His eyes had lost their mischievous glint, and his face had lost its smile. It was gaunt now, like flesh on a skeleton, with a prickly, unshaved beard clinging to his chin.

"Liam?" she wondered, not wanting him to answer. She feared his response, for deep inside her she knew that he wasn't lying. It had been what she was afraid of from the beginning.

He stared at her, looking torn. "Times have changed, Erin," he said quickly. "I was young before, but I've found my purpose. No one can help you now." Erin was amazed at the dull, brainwashed tone he used. _He can't really believe that_, he conscious told her, playing off of memories of her jovial brother. _He wouldn't be so pessimistic._ But the look in his eyes told her that he was.

"Liam, you don't mean that," she implored, saddened by his attitude. "You don't know what you're saying."

Liam shook his head, face blank of emotion. "Yes, I do."

"But don't you remember when we were young?" she asked. For a brief moment, she was distracted by the battle behind her. Lupin still hadn't risen from the floor. She turned back to Liam, convinced that he would be able to save them as he had the previous time. "Remember The History of the Australian Law, by Johannes Tinker?" His face was still blank. "Don't you remember anything?"

"No, Erin, I don't," he said, voice absent of any feelings. "I don't recall those times." He smiled wildly, half insane. "You have this idea that the good guy will always win, the bad guy will see their reason, turn to their side, help save the day, and that justice will always be done to those who deserve it." His eyes narrowed. "Don't you understand that half the time the bad guys are more cunning than the good, and more often than not the good are the ones that change over. But stories don't sell when the good loose. We aren't told the truth. The truth we must make up for ourselves." He let the smile leave his face. "And that's almost like saying the truth doesn't exist."

"Liam, you don't believe that," Erin replied sternly, seeing him now not as her brother but as a monster. A realization came to her. Liam had started the fires. He had done what her dream had shown. She was the one who had been too blinded by memory to see it.

Liam had already continued. "I believe nothing," he agreed, "other than what I decide for myself to be true. In this game, the good guys won't win. Oh, no. This will be the first story written down where the ending isn't happy and the story doesn't turn out the way you want it to. You will die, Erin, and I shall not shed a tear at your passing." Erin tensed in his arms, hoping his foreshadowing wasn't the future. A sudden epiphany settled into Erin's mind.

He called this battle a story, but it wasn't written in stone. Destiny could be changed, she realized. This was not the end. If an idea can change a world, she wondered, then why couldn't a person change the future. It was like as Liam had said. '...what I decide for myself to be true.' A smile crept across Erin's face.

Liam noticed and raised his wand. "I can't help you anymore," he whispered. "Nor can you help anyone. This struggle ends here." He paused. "_Stupefy_!"

* * *

"Now, Luka, hand over Erin." Dumbledore pointed a long finger to where Erin lay motionless on the ground.

Luka slowly raised his eyebrows. "It was a battle to the death, Dumbledore," he scoffed. "What? Are you above death? Is it too low for you?"

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. "I have come to the conclusion, Luka," he began, "after many years of studying, that death is not the worst thing possible. Indeed, sometimes life can be much worse."

Luka rolled his eye. "Well, since I'm alive, I will make my own bargain," he warned, "and it shall not be as you desire. Erin is the price I name for this _draw_ that we seem to have gotten into the middle of, _Dumbledore_." Luka spat his name. "I would not push the subject or you will find yourself in smaller pieces than a can of diced tomatoes."

Dumbledore smile appreciatively, but his hand insisted. "I will fight you for her again," Dumbledore said quietly. Luka was unimpressed. "You cannot win her; she separated herself from you long ago." Erin looked particularly pitiful as she lay at the base of Liam's feet. Her black eye was beginning to swell, and a particularly nasty looking cut across her chin was caked with dried blood.

"But, just as I proved with Voldemort, you cannot beat me."

"Ah," Dumbledore chuckled, "this is so. But you must also come to see that I am not Voldemort, nor am I in any way similar to Voldemort. In this respect, you cannot say I shall not prevail." Luka was put out. "Now, give her to me." Dumbledore smiled kindly, blue eyes twinkling. From the dim light behind him, six Order members stepped into the scene. Two of them moved quickly to haul Lupin to his feet. They pulled him back into their ranks. "Now."

Luka grinned and waved his wand. A book appeared in his hand. "Hmm," he said to himself, flipping through the pages quickly as he glanced up now and again to view the scene before him, theatrically portraying a troubled look. "What to do, and which recipe to pick." He looked past Dumbledore to where all the Death Eaters were frozen to the ground by anti-disappearation spells. "Ah, ha! This is exactly what I need." He read the book closely, snickering to himself, then snapped the book closed. It vanished into the air. "For mass chaos, use not one wand, but two!" He smiled impishly as Dumbledore's brows knotted. "_Accio wand!_" Luka said forcefully and Erin's wand flew out from her pocket. "Now," he said, turning back to face Dumbledore, "let's get this show on the road. _Finite incantatem!_"

The spell binding the Death Eaters to the floor vanished. "_Imperious!_" Luka cried immediately after releasing the Death Eaters. Suddenly, they all turned on the Order members. Now the Order members were not just faced with the daunting task of battling Luka and his followers, but with fighting the Death Eaters as well. Luka laughed to see such chaos insue. "So it comes to it finally, my men," Luka whispered over his shoulder to his followers, "that we fight." They drew their wands in unison.

The Order members that had appeared, although Tonks was still confused as how they knew to come, were the best duelers in their ranks. Moody fought three Death Eaters simultaneously as Sturgis Podmore was able to keep one each of Luka and Voldemort's followers at bay. Kingsley Shackbolt, the tall auror that Erin had only met once before, bravely dueled two Death Eaters, although he wasn't on top of his game. Snape fought against one of Luka's men, deciding to fight against the mutual enemy rather than betray Voldemort. Lupin was woozily tottering around, blinking furiously and holding his head in his hand. Tonks readied herself as she saw two of Luka's followers point at her then come running, wands drawn.

Between ducking their curses and throwing mundane and magical ones at her attackers herself, Tonks kept a close eye on her friends. A raven haired witch named Arani Frazetta, Tonks had met her only once before in a top secret auror meeting, attacked a Death Eater while Bill Weasley subdued two of Luka's men. A graying man, whom Tonks thought had a remarkable resemblance to Alan Knars, took on a Luka follower and two Death Eaters. A bright red bolt of light came a little too close to Tonks' ear, and she refocused her attention back on her fight.

The older man, whom Tonks' had no recollection of, quickly knocked out his two opponents. He would have gladly disposed of them, but he knew that Dumbledore would only disapprove of those actions. He spun around, looking for a battle that was faring particularly poorly. Snape had stumbled, but it seemed that it was only to throw off his enemy. His attacker was floored quickly. Then a quick movement towards his right caught the old man's eyes. Luka had picked Erin's limp body up and was proceeding to edge his way towards the two great wooden doors.

"Get your bloody hands off her, Luka," the old man roared, sprinting towards the escape route. Luka dropped Erin in surprise and whirled around to face his challenger.

"So, you've come to face me, have you, Knars?" he wondered, smoothing his red hair back.

The man halted a few paces away, breathing hard. "How the bloody hell d'you get away from Dumbledore?" Alan gasped, speaking only out of the necessity to buy him time to catch his breath.

Luka shrugged as a callous grin spread across his face. "Voldemort seems fond of doing my work for me so I just helped him along." The mocking laughter was gone from his face in an instant. "Now move, Knars."

Alan shook his head. "You can't leave with her," he whispered.

Luka was unimpressed. He advanced menacingly. "What are you saying, Knars?" he asked in an offhand way. "Care to challenge me? Think you can come out of it alive? You were clever in slipping past my nets, you know." His wand was drawn and he searched for Erin's quickly. Unable to find it quickly, Luka abandoned his attempts and focused all his attention on the aged Beater. "Warning Dumbledore and Erin about what I was doing down here...I almost thought my plan would fail. But why, I asked myself, would I let someone as cowardly as yourself seek to ruin me? Ah, I wasn't planning on it. And, actually, I'm rather glad you showed up. You see...I already killed Gene Davids. The Harrows have been with me since the beginning, Cevin and Ode both." Alan's jaw dropped in surprise. "Yes, Cevin _is_ rather good at pretending to be the bad guy pretending to be the good guy pretending to be the bad guy. He's rather gifted. Now I have Erin." Luka motioned to where Erin lay crumpled on the floor. "You too, eh, Knars? Plan to reunite the fad four? Harrow, Davids, Langhart, and Knars? Sounds like an okay plan to me." Luka leveled his wand. "Even if by reuniting, you all meet together in death."

For a second, the two men were locked in a spell/counter-spell duel. Luka's petrifying spell and Alan's protecting charm. They were both intent on keeping their spell stronger than the other; cold sweat dripped from Alan's forehead to the floor almost instantaneously. It almost seemed, for the smallest of time, that he was winning, but then he caught sight of Dumbledore walking briskly towards them. Alan's concentration began to slip. Just as Dumbledore raised his wand to send a spell Luka's way, Alan snapped.

Unbeknownst to Luka, Dumbledore, or Alan, Mad-eye Moody had also snuck up on the tied battle. At the same time Dumbledore had cast his spell, Moody had cast his. Both were sent towards Luka. They hit the Australian lord the moment Alan faltered. The curses sped through Luka, combined with Luka's own spell, and hit Alan in the chest. Luka and Alan collapsed on the floor. Dumbledore rushed over to Knars' side, Moody over to Luka's.

"He's dead," Moody growled, running a finger down his severely twisted nose as he peered into Luka's open eye.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, and drew back from Alan. "Yes, Alan is too."

Moody's good eye turned towards the old Beater, but his magical one was trained on Luka. "I didn't know," Moody apologized, terribly sorry. It was odd to see so much compassion come from the grizzled auror, but one knew that Moody knew of Dumbledore's feelings towards the late Beater. "I know he was your friend."

Dumbledore nodded curtly. "What curse did you use?"

"Finite," Moody whispered, looking grim. "Why? Do you think we had a reverse spell combination? An RSC?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No," he aged wizard said softly. "The combination of expelliarmus and finite wouldn't do that." He stood up and looked down at the two fallen men. "I just don't know how. Wake Erin." Moody moved over to Erin's side and Dumbledore turned back to the rest of the room.

The Death Eaters were gone, including Voldemort. They had vanished seconds after Luka had died, their anti-disapperation and imperious charms broken. Without the Death Eaters' unwilling support, Luka's followers had shrunk to their side of the great hall, and the Order members' had retreated to theirs. Both sides were too wasted to do anything more than light a candle. Only Ode and Cevin Harrow seemed to be remotely alive. The uncle and nephew pair quickly crossed the distance between them and where Dumbledore and Moody stood.

"What have you done?" Ode hissed. Behind Dumbledore Moody was easing Erin to her feet. Lupin, seeing Erin alive but maybe not so well, practically ran to where she was. He seemed in better physical and mental health than he had been previously. "You killed him."

Moody shook his head. "It was a combined effort," he corrected bluntly. Ode lashed out. Before either Dumbledore, Moody, or Lupin had the chance to react, Erin was roughly torn from Moody's hands and thrown into Cevin's.

"Hand Erin over to us," Dumbledore ordered, not rattled in the least. "You're leader is dead."

From beside his uncle, Cevin smiled and set Erin aside. "No," he sneered.

Dumbledore glanced quickly up to Cevin, blue eyes wary. "Cevin your plan was clever, I shall be lenient enough as to say that. You certainly had me fooled. Don't you think that game was enough."

"No, Dumbledore," Cevin whispered, stepping up so he was beside his uncle, "I beg to differ. You see, Luka promised me that when he was to die, I would rule in his place."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "But you won't, will you?"

"No," Cevin replied, "I will." He stared evilly over to where Lupin stood dumbfounded. "And Erin won't be coming back for a long while, if at all. She's already home, what more could you want?"

"But you promised you were loyal to Dumbledore," Erin whined, pointing an accusatory finger at Cevin. She was completely awake, finally, and was dazedly glancing around the room. "Your parents, the Order..."

A wicked grin lit Cevin's face as he briefly turned to face Erin. "How many promises were broken today?" he asked her softly. "How many lies told, or double deals dealt? How many people died? Was there any reason behind it? How many people do you think you'll have to kill next time to win?" Erin stared at him in confusion. "Or can you?"

"But you fought alongside us." Erin wished that she hadn't woken up after Liam knocked her out. She wanted to go back to sleep. Her world had been flipped several times since she had awaken. "You were on the Welsh team. You were my friend."

Cevin gave her a mockingly sympathetic look. "That game today?" he began with a smile. "I convinced the Quidditch confederation as to where it should be played. I was the one that made sure that we would get into the World Cup."

Ode grinned. "You see, Erin Langhart," he whispered, "some of us have been planning this capture for quite a long time. Well, it wasn't exactly you we were planning on capturing, but still. That man who ran into Knars? I had him do that. He was under my Imperious the whole time. If we took out two Beaters, then when Cevin directed a Bludger towards you, no one could blame us in the least. That Bludger was a portkey. I had Samuel Wite turn it into a portkey right before it collided with you. Pity that your friends had to come as well. That was most unexpected." Erin gaped at Ode Harrow in stupefaction.

"I was only fighting for one side," Cevin continued. "And I have only been fighting for one cause this whole time. I do not vary my decisions. I can say that a lot of minds were twisted to bend to this plot." He inclined his head towards Erin once. "Yes. This was Luka's plot. He wanted to reunite his family."

Erin's eyes narrowed. "But...but he told me that he wanted to rule Aust..."

Cevin cut her off with a brisk wave of his hand. "After what you know of Luka, do you honestly think he would settle for ruling a material object? No, he wanted more than that. And a family is the most important thing anyone could ever have." Cevin sighed. "You were the last link in the long Langhart family chain not fighting for Luka. Now you have no choice. Pity Luka never saw his glory."

Lupin stared at him in shock and moved toward Erin. Cevin advanced on him quickly, sticking his wand in his neck. "If you try and take her you will die," he hissed. "If she leaves, all of you will die. It's her or every one from you're pathetic Order." Cevin looked at Dumbledore triumphantly.

"Let them go, Cevin," Erin said meekly, holding her bruised head in one hand. "I'll stay here."

Lupin broke through Cevin's hold and rushed over to her, looking lost. "You can't do that, Erin," he pleaded, taking her hands in his. "I can't let you stay here."

Erin stared into his fierce eyes, tears welling in her own. "I know," she whispered, releasing his hands and sweeping him into a tight hug. "I don't want to stay, but my life isn't worth all these peoples'." She pulled away, stroking his face with a gentle hand. "This was my destiny, Remus. I can't change it." Erin brushed a tear from his cheek with her thumb. "Don't make it harder than it already is."

"I won't let them do it," he sobbed silently, burying his face in her hair. "They can't take you away from me."

Erin stroked his hair soothingly. "Remus, I couldn't have guessed the outcome any better than anyone here," she whispered, holding back tears of her own. "Everything's been there to point to this." She wiped her own tears away and sniffed, chuckling. "Heck, I don't even know why I would wonder. In reality I always knew this would be my fate."

"It's not fair."

"Come on, Remus," she murmured. "Of course it's not. Do you expect anything in life to be fair?" She wrapped her arms around him, leaning against his chest and listened to his heart beat slowly. Her own heart was torn. "You know I'm not the strong one here. If you break down, then who knows what I'll be doing in a few seconds." He sniffed, laughing, then straightened. "Go on."

Lupin looked into her eyes, imploring her to change her mind, and seeing the stubborn loyalty, swept her into a bear hug, kissing her for the last time. "Good bye."

Erin watched her friends file solemnly out of the great hall, Dumbledore the last of which to leave. He turned to her as he left, giving her a sad, but entirely gratifying, bow. Just before he closed the door, Erin thought she saw him wink, but wasn't sure. She heard his wispy voice in her head speaking gently. _In darkness there is always light, even when it's flame has been all but reduced to an ember. If only one remembers to turn feed the fire...to turn on the lights_...The words faded in her mind, but filled Erin with determination to live through whatever Luka had planned for her. She stared at the heavy doors her friends had left through a few moments longer before turning to Cevin and Ode. _I will be my light_, she thought and smiled crookedly at her doom. _Whatever hell gives, hell will answer_. She laughed, although she saw nothing humorous about her situation. _I'll give it my best shot, and so help me._


	26. A Life Without Love

**EPILOGUE: A Life Without Love**

Weeks had passed since Lupin arrived at the Order of Phoenix Headquarters in stunned silence. No one bothered to talk to him when he flopped uselessly down at the kitchen table one morning. No one stopped and comforted him. He didn't want to be comforted. Actually, he didn't know what he wanted. Nothing mattered to him anymore; it was like the world had ended and now they were living in a peculiar void that looked remarkably like the world that had disappeared except for it held no joy. It held nothing. Nothing good, nothing bad. Everything was just nothing. Lupin didn't like living in nothing.

The day dragged on. Cold wind laced with large snowflakes whipped around the Black house. Snowdrifts formed along windward sides of the house. From inside, Lupin could hear Tonks, Bill, Fred, and George all playing in the snow. Tonks had been able to recover from losing such a close friend through her own stubborn will. She'd cried for four days straight, and then it was over. She was back to her old routine, but the laughter was missing.

Everything that day seemed to remind him of Erin. From the fish they ate at lunch to the game of chess that Ron tried to talk Lupin into playing. Even Dumbledore stopped by, accompanied by Minerva McGonagall. Their brief appearance had brightened Lupin's day slightly, but he sunk back into the shadows soon afterward. Tonks asked him to sled on the roof with good intentions; he almost broke down where he stood. A parcel arrived from Bates telling Erin that the Welsh team had won the World Cup for the first time in centuries. Inside was Erin's Ashur960, a card, and a fruitcake Bates' wife had made.

Lupin sat in Erin's room, it had been untouched since their return from Australia, turning her copy of Crime and Punishment over and over in his hands. A playbook lay open on Erin desk next to a series of scribbles on a spare piece of parchment just as though Erin had walked out of the room for a second and was bound to return within the minute. Lupin closed his eyes, hoping the nightmare he was living in was only temporary, and that he would wake up in their suite in Australia before anything had happened.

"Hey, mate," Tonks greeted without her normal enthusiasm. "How's it going?" Lupin opened his eyes and glared at her. Tonks nodded and sat down on the edge of Erin's bed. "I figured as much. I know," she sighed in response to yet another dark look that Lupin shot her. "It's hard, isn't it?" Lupin chose not to answer a question as stupid as that. Tonks glanced over her shoulder at him. "You miss her." Another remarkably stupid statement.

"Of course I do," Lupin whispered, staring at the cover of Crime and Punishment with its completely unreadable Chinese symbols. "And even that's an understatement."

"But you can't dwell on her for the rest of your life and waste away into nothing," Tonks said reasonably. "Erin wouldn't have wanted you to do that, don't you think? She'd have wanted you to move on."

"She didn't want to stay there," Lupin responded, mostly to himself. "I shouldn't have let her go to the game at all."

"But don't you think she would be more unhappy if you had?" Tonks asked. "She said it herself that she didn't care if Luka got her. She won another World Cup, she got to see her home again," Tonks paused. "Well, she'll be seeing it for awhile, but still."

"Oh, you're a fine one to be philosophical," Lupin spat. "That will be for the first time on record." Lupin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Tonks. That wasn't fair."

"It's alright, Remus. We're going through the same stuff right now. It's okay."

Lupin nodded, grateful for the understanding. "Tonks, I loved her. It's not as easy as just saying that Erin would have wanted me to move on. Of course I know all that. Of course I do." He rose from the bed and set the book he was holding aside. "Believe me, I wish I were able to just make my feelings leave. I wish I could go back to how it was before I met her."

Tonks stood up and stopped him. "No you don't, Remus," she said, shaking her head. "Think what you would have missed if she hadn't have come along. You'd be dead, I'd be without a friend, that bastard Snape would still be paralyzed, Molly would be without a few gray hairs, Ron would be without a role model, Fred and George would be without a few more Galleons..." Tonks drifted off. "Look at how she's touched every one of our lives. Don't you think that's remarkable? I think we should thank our lucky stars she came our way."

Lupin stared at the floor. "But..."

"Lupin, you've given me plenty of talks before," Tonks began, cutting Lupin's remark off short. "Now it's time I had my say. We don't even know if Erin will be hurt. It didn't sound exactly like they wanted to collect everyone from the Langhart family and plan a family reunion with the highlight of a mass suicide." Lupin was startled by the insensitivity of her statement. "Sorry," Tonks said sheepishly, "but they wouldn't. She'll live to see another day. We might yet see her again."

"But I'll feel so guilty if anything were to happen..."

Tonks tutted disapprovingly. "Now really, Remus," she said with mock scorn, "don't be thinking so old fashion like." She winked slyly and headed for the door. "Erin is a woman before her time. Quit trying to drag us all back to yesterday." Lupin watched her go and thought about what she had just said. Not that it made any sense whatsoever..._Well,_ Lupin wondered as he struggled over it,_ maybe it does. Maybe I just don't want it to._ With a curt nod of his head, Lupin followed Tonks out the door, feeling better, but still weighed down by an overbearing sense of apprehension.

_Everything must come to an end. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I will have to be honest and say that the reviews have not inspired to write, as this story _is_ finished, but it has inspired me to update. That being said, it's not much of an incentive to review now, is it? However, I'd really like to know what everyone out there thinks should happen, or what COULD happen between our happy (or not so happy) characters. I welcome _any_ advice at all. Email me at if you have any ideas worth bottling. That is to say, really freakin good. I'm plum out of them as of now._

_Thanks again to one and all_

_J.S._


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